A Case of You
by Mrs.Monster
Summary: A road trip, a stolen car, a grumpy human-drinking vampire, a disposable camera and a very unique map. Bella's determined to have fun, and Peter's along for the ride. Complete! Look for future outtakes.
1. The Best of You

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 1/?**_

_**Title song by the Foo Fighters**_

**..**

_A Case of You_

_Chapter 1_

_The Best of You_

Charles Bukowski said, "You have to die a few times before you can really live." and I completely agree. Now, I hadn't died, but I'd come close more times than I'd care to count. There had been falls, car accidents, a few incidents with cliff diving and even a crazed vampire or two. A close friend told me that if the life that I was leading had brought me so close to the edge of death so many times, maybe I was living the wrong life. I valued her advice even more than the legendary poet's, and decided that maybe it was time for me to actually live. Not coast through, taking care of the people who should have been taking care of me, but to grab life by the ball-sack, and do what I wanted with it.

**..**

The first time I'd gotten a call from Alice after Edward left and took his family with him, I had sat down in a kitchen chair, hard, with the phone clutched in my hand, and I had cried. He'd had me convinced that they didn't care, that the family had tossed me aside, left me behind like the cat that there wasn't room for in their new home. I'd been so relieved to find out that our friendship had been a true one, not just a distraction from her never-ending monotony.

The first time she visited, she'd brought Jasper with her. He'd been projecting such a great amount nervousness that it had me shaking, before he realized and reigned it in. Turns out, I wasn't the only one Edward had lied too. He hadn't told Jasper that I'd forgiven him, had led Jasper to believe that I was terrified of him. He had called him a monster, and tried to banish him from the family. Carlisle had, thankfully, stepped in and ended the tirade, chastising a shocked Edward, who'd always had things his way. Jasper had been afraid of my reaction to seeing him on my doorstep, and I knew that I shocked him when I hugged him, squeezing his stone body as hard as I could. Alice stood beside him, smiling from ear to ear. When I led them into the house, I could hear her whisper, "I told you so."

Alice and Jasper had kept in contact from that day, and I was grateful to the both of them.

They hadn't been able to come to my graduation that had taken place a month ago, they thought that it would cause too much of a stir- they were supposed to be in California, after all. I hadn't minded. Charlie, Renee and Phil were there, along with Billy and Jacob Black. Jake and I had gotten close again after the Cullens left, and I found out that the giant boys that lived on the Rez were shape-shifters. _That_had been a shock, to say the least. The day that I'd found out, I'd punched one of the boys-Paul-in the face, simultaneously breaking three fingers. He'd laughed at me, told me I had spunk and slapped my ass. I'd been flabbergasted, to say the least. After that, I became friends with the entire tribe, and later, Paul and I became lovers for a short while. It'd ended when he'd imprinted on a pretty girl from the neighboring Makah reservation named Clara; I didn't begrudge him anything, we both knew that it was something that could possibly happen someday.

Today, I was standing in the drive way of Charlie's house, two suitcases in the bed of my truck and another duffle slung over my shoulder. I stood awkwardly in front of a group of people; Charlie, Jake, Billy, Paul, Sam and Emily.

"Well.." I said awkwardly. "I guess I'll... be seeing you."

Emily burst into tears, and I felt my own throat tighten uncomfortably, so I turned away and tossed the duffle onto the passenger side of the bench seat. Once I was sure there was no danger of tears, I turned and hugged Emily tightly. Emily turned into Charlie, and he turned into Paul and so on until I'd hugged everyone, and there were those traitor tears threatening again.

The leather seat of my truck was split open and it grated against my skin as I climbed in and cranked it over, backing out of the driveway with a final wave of farewell. The truck's enormous nose was pointed out of town, but I had one more stop to make before I left Forks behind for the east coast. I trundled down the familiar, long, now overgrown drive, not for an emotional, sappy, symbolic goodbye, but with specific intent, and excitement. A deep blue Corvette was parked at the foot of the porch stairway and I parked behind it, hopping down and pocketing my keys before rushing up to the front door.

Alice had the door open before I'd reached it, and I ran into her hard, cold body, hugging her tightly.

"I'm going to miss you guys so much!" I told them as I released Alice to hug her husband who'd been standing slightly behind her.

"We'll speak frequently," Jasper assured me.

"You need this, Bella," Alice told me. "Trust me." She tapped her temple, giving me a wink.

"We have a surprise for you." Jasper tossed something in my direction as he spoke, and I reached out, snatching a set of keys out of the air. I looked at both of them in confusion. Alice grabbed my hand and tugged me along with her to the garage. They walked over to a vintage Mustang convertible, Jasper running his hand down its side.

"What's this?" I asked them.

Jasper smirked. "It's Edward's. One of his prized possessions. Still in mint condition, odometer still at zero, fresh as it was on the show room floor in '66."

"He'll have a hissy fit when he realizes it's gone," Alice said giggling. I found myself grinning back at them, thrilling at this small, but sweet revenge.

It was beautiful; gleaming bright blue paint, everything in perfect condition and working order, and she was mine. I ducked my head through the passenger side window, taking in the interior, when I noticed something lying on the seat. It was a thick book- a scrap book to be exact- it's cover decorated by hand. The title read simply _''The Journey'._It was filled to bursting, and I flipped open the front cover, and there was a page with the words _'the beginning'_drawn beautifully, and I felt my eyes fill with tears, as they had so often today. I turned my eyes to Alice.

"I couldn't help it! It's your entire trip, mapped out."

"This is wonderful, Alice. Thank you, so much." I hugged the both of them again, the two best friends I'd ever had.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note (527/12): Going back and cleaning up the formatting on this story a bit. Wowza it's a mess. **

_**Author's Note: Mushy-mush beginning, I know, I know- no need to check me for a fever, I assure you I'm quite sane.**_

_**Now leave me a review and show me the love, so I don't get the wiggins. It's a serious thing- a debilitating condition. Trust me on this one.**_


	2. My Boy Builds Coffins

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 2/?**_

_**Title song by Florence + the Machine**_

**..**

_A Case of You_

_Chapter 2_

_My Boy Builds Coffins_

I was somewhere in west Montana. My stomach was grumbling, my bladder was beginning to protest, and my legs were tingling from sitting for so long. Yellow stripes whizzed by and disappeared behind me as I ate up the road with a low grumble of the 'Stang's engine, and I laughed when I looked down at the odometer. Kept at zero since it came off the show room floor in 1966, it was peeking at just over eight hundred miles. It may be a small victory, but it felt good, this little personal revenge. My phone buzzed from where it rested in the cup holder I'd hooked onto the window, and I flipped it open to see a text from Alice.

_Check the book._

I rolled my eyes but pulled over anyway, lifting the leather scrapbook from the passenger seat. I flipped passed the photos at the beginning, to a page decorated with little hand-drawn mountains and 'Montana' sketched across the top. The first picture was of a small roadside diner called 'Joe's'. _How original,_I thought. Alice's entry underneath the picture said, "They have the best chili." My eyebrows scrunched together, and I opened my phone again, punching in Alice's number. When she answered, she was giggling.

"Yeah?"

"How in the hell do you know that they have the best chili? You don't eat."

"Well you see, Jasper ate this guy once who'd just finished-"

"Okay, okay, I-I get it," I interrupted her. I heard Jasper's voice in the background.

"He tasted a little spicy, though. You may want to stick with the mild chili." With a small shudder, I hung up and signaled, pulling back onto the interstate. Joe's was only another five miles down the road, and gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the parking lot. I switched the car off and stepped out, pocketing the keys. The place was like a blast from the past, with a checkered tile floor and a long counter with stools pulled up underneath. I walked passed the booths, picking a seat at the counter. The air conditioned building made the imitation leather freezing, and I shivered when I sat down.

The waitress came around, setting a coffee cup down in front of me along with a paper place mat and some rolled up silverware.

"Hey ya, hon. Get you some coffee?" she asked, already pouring. Gum smacked around in her mouth as she spoke. She was beach bottle blonde and looked to be around my age. Too much make-up ruined a pretty face, and I smiled up at her.

"Someone told me that you've got the best chili," I said, unrolling my silverware, folding my napkin and arranging the spoon, fork and knife just so.

"We sure do," she said, "best in the state. We've got our Five-Alarm spicy, just plain old hot, and then there's the mild." I laughed under my breath.

"I think I'll stick with the mild," I said. She jotted my order down and carted it off to the kitchen. I added sugar and cream to my coffee and sipped slowly, looking around the place. It was actually a charming little diner. An entire wall was decorated from floor to ceiling with vintage license plates. Another wall boasted an enviable collection of Coke memorabilia. Ceiling fans creaked over head, more for decoration in an air-conditioned building. As I turned on my stool, I noticed something. Or, should I say, someone. He was sitting in the very back of the diner, in a booth that was partially hidden by the shadows that crept out from the unlit corners. He was leaned back, his face hidden, his hands folded together on the Formica table top. A single cup of coffee sat in front of him, but that wasn't the only odd thing I noticed.

He wasn't breathing.

His chest didn't move, didn't rise and fall with inhales and exhales. To my own surprise, I snorted loudly. He wasn't doing a very good job of blending in. Especially with the dress shirt and tie he wore. The shirt was rolled to his elbows, and I could see legs clad in ripped jeans stretching out from under the table. I just hoped that the danger magnet that seemed to be shoved up my ass picked right now to start malfunctioning, because I didn't need any supernatural shit in my life right now. Alice and Jasper being the only exceptions.

I turned forward, hoping he hadn't noticed me looking (right, that would happen) just as the waitress set down an enormous bowl filled to the brim with steaming chili, topped with onions, shredded cheese and oyster crackers. My stomach growled loudly. I picked up my spoon, ready to scoop up my first bite, and two things happened.

My cell rang, and Mr. Vampire shot out of his seat and walked just a little too quickly toward the door. I brought my cell to my ear, and Alice's shrill voice grated my ear.

"Stop him!" Of course, my focus was on the chili, so I didn't know what the fuck she was talking about.

"Do what?" Alice groaned in frustration.

"The vampire! You have to stop him. The kid- the kid in the parking lot is his singer." My spoon clattered to the counter top, and I spun around in my seat. Sure enough Mr. V was stalking toward a mini-van loaded up with a couple of kids and a set of parents.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You want me -_me_- to get between a vampire and his singer?" I whispered furiously into the phone, glancing around to make sure I hadn't been heard.

"Just distract him! He won't hurt you, trust me, just do it!" She disconnected.

"Fuck!" I was off my stool and rushing out into the summer heat that seemed to double in intensity after being in the central air. Mr. V was glowering over a group of terrified kids, two boys and a girl. He would reach toward the dark-haired boy, then snatch his hands back, holding them against his chest. The kids were terrified, while the parents were still oblivious inside the van. I could hear them muttering about a lost wallet. I sprinted toward them, the soles of my flip-flops sending gravel up behind me. I cursed to myself again before jumping between Mr. V and the kids like an idiot. Mr. V's eyes immediately focused on me, more like my neck, with pitch black eyes. His nostrils were flared, his mouth curled up into a snarl. And my mind went blank as his lips pulled back from his sharp teeth. Distract him? Fuck you, Alice! Could have given me some ideas, bitch. Then I remember that he was a vamp of the male genre, and there was one thing that would always distract a man...

I grabbed the hem of my blue tank-top and yanked it up, blushing furiously at the gasp I heard from the front seat. Of course the parents would pick _now_to pay attention. Fortunately, I'd gotten Mr. V's- or should I say Mr. M, because that was one _hell_of a mole- attention as well. His face was filled with shock as he stared at the girls, the bare girls, 'cause I'd gone freestyle today. It was like slow motion-his hand came up just as the parents got out of the van, and he poked my nipple. Poked it. With his cold as ice finger, and a mesmerized look on his face. This was a giant boost to my ego. My nipple, of course, came to attention just as he touched it, then poked it again, like he was trying to figure out what in the hell it was. Just as he went back for his fourth poke, I grabbed his hand.

"C'mon," I told him, stepping away from the kids. "Come with me." I took a step toward where my car was parked, and he turned as well, eyes still trained on my chest. "Atta boy," I said to him. "Just come with me." I spoke slowly, as if I were talking to a frightened little bunny rabbit instead of the world's deadliest predator. I looked back at the parents, who were watching us with outraged expressions.

"I'm sorry," I said over my shoulder. "My friend is a little..." I glanced at him, he was still watching my now covered boobs. "Well, he's just a little off." With that, I tugged him toward the Mustang, and he followed, not putting up a fight or looking back toward the kid whose blood surely still called to him. Oh really, it was like he'd never seen a set of tits before, from the look on his face. We were almost to the car.

"Okay, good vampire, let's go." I opened the passenger side door. "Into the car... there you go." I closed the door behind him, and ran around to the driver's side, jumping in and bringing the car to life. I sped out of the parking lot, rolling down the window as I did so, hoping that it would disperse my scent. I sure as hell didn't want to become his dinner either.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Leave me a review, yes? Let me know what you think.<strong>_

_**Now c'mere 'n let me love ya. -GLOMPS-**_


	3. Leave the Bourbon on the Shelf

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 3/?**_

_**Title song by The Kills**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Leave the Bourbon on the Shelf**_

Lights coming from the opposite direction on the highway cut through the darkness, and I had a vampire in the passenger's seat of my car. He was turned toward me, still starting at my boobs, and I was frantically punching buttons on my cell phone, dialing Alice. His incessant staring was beginning to make me squirm in nervous discomfort. I could practically feel his eyes cutting through the thin layer of my tank top.

"Thank god you stopped him," Alice breathed when she answered.

My eyes bugged out a little, and I swear that I could actually hear my nerves twanging. "Yes, I stopped him, now what in the hell am I supposed to _do_with him?"

Alice mumbled something on the other end of the line that I couldn't quite make out. "A little louder, please, Alice."

"I said, you should check the book."

I waited a beat to process this, and I think I felt my left eye twitch a little, but I was too distracted to be sure. "Check the book," I finally said, drawing out the words. "Alice, if you _knew_this was going to happen, I swear..." I cast anxious eyes to the person in the seat next to me, and found him staring out the window, seemingly watching the passing scenery with disinterest.

"No! I swear I didn't!"

"Alice," I said, a warning tone in my voice.

"Well, that is to say, I saw him joining you, and I knew that the two of you would meet at the diner, but I didn't know _that_was going to happen. Nice save, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I blew out a long breath, and cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder. "Check the book, huh? Are you sure he's not going to eat me?"

"Of course he's not going to eat you."

I looked over at him again. He had his elbow propped against the door, chin in his hand. "You know how I feel about casting in with vampires. Well, vampires that aren't you guys, anyway."

"I know, but, just give it a chance, Bella. You won't be sorry."

"I'll hold you to that. Later." I hit the end button, and dropped the phone back into the cup holder, putting both hands back on the wheel. The vampire sitting next to me, Christ, I didn't even know his name, was still and quiet. I certainly hoped I wouldn't be sorry for listening to Alice, but if you couldn't trust your best friend, your all-knowing, all-seeing best friend at that, who could you trust?

I drove a little while longer, and just as a light rain began to fall, my headlights flashed upon just what I was looking for. The short, roughly made wooden sign pointed to a small turn off road, advertising a camp site, and I flashed my blinker then turned off the highway.

My little road trip was being financed by whatever money I'd managed to put away throughout high school and graduation gifts from various family members. Charlie, Renee and Phil had gone together and had given me an absurd amount that I'd refused to accept at first. It'd been just too much- not by Cullen standards, mind- but a lot for my working parents. So I was watching my money closely, and that meant little money for hotels. Alice had balked at my solution to the problem, which was just bunking down with my sleeping bag in the cab of my truck, which may have been part of her reason for giving me Edward's car. She'd known that I'd refuse to take any Cullen money, though, so she'd kept her mouth shut.

There were a few R.V.'s parked here and there when I pulled into the main site, and I drove passed them, parking the Mustang at the very far end. I wasn't sure what to say to my silent companion as I pulled the keys out of the ignition, so I didn't say anything, figuring that was the best route to take, for the time being. I rushed around to the trunk in the rain, and pulled my sleeping bag out, then ducked into the back seat. He didn't show any indication that he'd noticed my movements, just kept sitting there, staring out the window, hands in his lap. It was starting to creep me out.

I unrolled the sleeping bag and slipped off my flip-flops before reaching over the seat to grab the scrapbook from where it had been wedged between us in the front seat. Climbing into the sleeping bag, I zipped it most of the way up, then flipped the book open, and read passed the _Joe's_ entry. Yellow light from a few halogen bulbs on tall poles shone through the back window of the car and gave me enough light to read that Alice had put in three alternate routes that I could take that would keep me heading in the direction of Massachusetts. Each one took me passed some type of road-side oddity, and I shook my head with a small smile, giving Alice mental hugs for knowing me so well.

In the past, Alice would have booked me rooms and visits in the poshest spots she could find along the way, things that would have held absolutely no interest for me. That was before, though, before she had actually gotten to know _me,_the me that was away from her brother's influence. The first of the three routes took me passed the bronzed shoe of the world's tallest man; the second was a visit to a two-headed calf; the third, though- the third really took the cake. It was a trip to see the spot where Evel Knievel had done his last stunt, where he'd been planted in the ground.

Oh yes, there really was no contest.

I heard my cell phone sound from the front, signaling that I had a text message.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Um, could you hand me my cell-" I didn't have time to finish the sentence before the phone was dropped onto my face, the man having moved so fast that I couldn't follow. "Thanks," I mumbled sarcastically.

Flipping my phone open, I saw that the message was from Alice.

_I was hoping you'd pick that one._

I rolled my eyes and sent her back a rather rude emoticon before tossing my phone back up front, Mr. V. catching it deftly and putting it back into the cup holder. Closing the book, I laid it on the back floor board, and snuggled down into my sleeping bag. As I laid there, listening to the rain pitter-patter against the car, watching the back of the vampire's head, I wondered if I'd get any sleep at all that night.

_**Author's Notes: More things didn't really happen! Bella talked to the all knowing Alice! Peter's kind of acting like a short bus! What will happen next? Tune in next time, to A Case of You, brought to you by some completely fake company that I'm calling Rich and Creamy Plastic Things, LLC.**_

_**Much love and thanks for all of the reviews.**_

_**Now leave me some more? Feed the bulging, robotic, harvested, intestinal review sac? For the sac?**_

_**The sac has a mean set of puppy dog eyes, and it won't give up until it's sated. Just sayin'.**_

_**And that got weird, didn't? I'lll just... yeah, go. Thanks for reading!**_


	4. Taper Jean Girl

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 4/?**_

_**Title song by Kings of Leon**_

**..**

_A Case of You_

_Chapter 4_

_Taper Jean Girl_

Weak sunlight filtered feebly through a cloudy sky. I peeled my eyelids back, blinking slowly, stirring inside of my sleeping bag. It was the kind with a small pillow built into it, and kept me nice and toasty warm as I slept, laid out across the back bench seat of the vintage car. I rubbed my eyes, and sat up stretching, pausing abruptly when one of my hands smacked into the back of a head.

"Christ on a cracker," I yelped, snatching my hand back. "I forgot you were there." He was still sitting in the same exact spot, doing the same exact thing, that he'd been when I'd fallen asleep the night before. "Did you sit there all night?"

He slowly turned in his seat to face me. His eyes were a burgundy red, his face passive. "Yes," he said, and I was fairly certain that it was the first word that he'd said since I'd lured him into my car. The vampire turned back around and continued his perusal out the window.

"So weird," I muttered before wiggling my way out of the sleeping back. I rolled it up awkwardly, maneuvering in the small backseat, then let myself out of the backseat and threw it in the trunk. Climbing into the driver's seat, I looked over at him, then tried to see what he was looking at. His eyes were fixed on one spot, like he was watching something.

"What're you looking at?" I asked, buckling my seatbelt around myself.

"There are two squirrels screwing in that tree." He pointed up at a tree about twenty feet away.

I squinted my eyes in that direction, then shook my head. "A little privacy, please," I said on the squirrel's behalf, earning me an odd look from my companion. "What?" I asked him.

He just shook his head. I turned in my seat to look at him. If he was going to be sticking around, like Alice had hinted at, then this awkwardness just wouldn't do.

"What's your name, anyway?" I asked him. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, then back to the squirrels.

"Peter," he answered after a few moments.

"Okay," I said slowly. "Well, I'm Bella. It's nice to meet you, I guess..."

He said nothing in return, and I was beginning to get frustrated. Peter just sat there, staring at a different point in the forest. He lifted a hand to his mouth, and began chewing on his thumbnail.

Peter had dark brown hair that hung around his face, stopping just below his ears. He was the only vampire that I'd seen with facial hair, with a slightly scruffy, unkempt appearance. Small, kind of squinted eyes and an averaged sized nose above full, slightly feminine lips. What struck me about Peter's appearance, though, was the fact that his features weren't perfect. He was beautiful, to be sure, but there was something about him that held him just slightly back from perfection status.

I kind of liked it. Looking at him didn't make me feel inferior, there was no surge of self consciousness that I sometimes even still got around Alice and Jasper.

"Well, I'm going to find a truck stop, or something to stop and have breakfast, then I'm going to see a Montana landmark," I informed him. Peter just shrugged, turning away from the window.

"You're really kind of weird, you know?"

He gave me a quick look. "Yeah, what's your point?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I don't have one. I'm just... saying." Cranking the engine over, I put the car into gear and drove out of the park.

**..**

The truck stop I'd found was fairly new, at least only dating back to the mid-eighties, I was sure. The color scheme was mostly brown, and I mentally cursed Alice for even putting terms like '_color scheme'_in my vocabulary. Half of the place was dedicated to a long fuel desk where truckers could gas up, and what seemed to be a novelty shop with all different kinds of figurines and knick-knacks. The other half was taken up by a restaurant called the _Iron Skillet._

I pushed my way out of the bathroom, and found Peter wandering around the novelty shop, picking up things seemingly at random and inspecting them, before replacing the item and moving on. He still wore his jeans and dress shirt and tie, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. The other patrons seemed to be shrugging him off as some sort of hipster. I walked up to him as he tossed an _I Love Lucy_ snow-globe from one hand to the other before placing it back on the shelf.

"C'mon, let's head over to the restaurant," I said to him, drawing his attention away from a Ma and Pa Kettle salt and pepper set. We headed to the other half of the place, and claimed one of the booths that were lined along the west wall of the restaurant.

I gave my order to a middle-aged waitress, and Peter pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit one up then stole an ashtray from a neighboring booth.

"You smoke?" I asked him. It seemed like an odd thing for a vampire to do. Surely he couldn't still feel the satisfaction of the nicotine. Peter shrugged.

"Only habit left over from my human days," he said. Peter held the cigarette in his right hand, his left arm resting in front of him on the table top. I did a double take, and stared at his left hand. The middle finger was missing from the bottom knuckle, leaving barely a nub. It wasn't healed over, and the stub looked jagged, as if it'd been snapped off, making it obvious it was something that had happened after he'd become a vampire. My staring was interrupted by the waitress who slid a plate in front of me and set the check at the end of the table before walking away, her too large shoes _flap, flap, flapping_ against the soles of her feet. I dug into my plate of waffles and sausage with gusto, washing the food down with a glass of orange juice, as Peter smoked another cigarette and watched me.

When I was finished, I took care of the check, and we were back on the road, headed toward Butte, Montana and the site of Evel Knievel's last jump and his grave.

**..**

We were close to Butte, and I was annoying Peter with questions, if his tone was any indication.

"When were you changed?" I asked, steering with my palm as I fiddled with the radio with the other hand.

"A while ago," he answered vaguely, watching me mess with the knobs. Turns out, having a conversation with Peter was a little like pulling teeth. Slow and laborious work.

"What happened to your finger?" I asked after I settled on a station.

"Lost it."

"You... lost your finger?" I was just trying to fill the painfully awkward silence.

"Yep."

"Alright, then."

I turned the radio up a little and we drove without speaking, until I nearly missed the exit sign for Butte. I would have completely missed it, had Peter not pointed it out at the last minute, making me flick my blinker and turn off the highway abruptly. We found the spot with ease, and stood in front of Evel Knievel's tombstone. I rocked back and forth on my heels a little, hands behind my back, and Peter stood next to me, looking down at the stone with disinterest. Did he ever get interested in anything? I thought to myself. Then I decided that I needed to give him a little time. I'd known him for less than twenty-four hours, and maybe he was just one of those types that took a little while to warm up to other people.

Walking the short distance back to the car, I fetched the disposable camera I'd picked up back at the truck stop.

"Hey Peter, go stand by the stone so I can take your picture."

He gave me a long look. "Why?"

"Why not?" I asked, and he shook his head at me again before walking over to stand behind the tall tombstone. I laughed at the what-in-the-hell-is-the-matter-with-you look he was giving me as I snapped the picture, then gestured for him to come back to the car with me. We climbed back in, and I backed out of the space, and we motored back to the highway.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: What are we thinking of Peter? He's a bit of an odd duck. TRIVIA: Who's your favorite vampire? From any movie, book, work of fiction- hell, maybe you know a REAL vampire. Let me know in your review!<strong>_


	5. Hanging by a Moment

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended. **_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 5/?**_

_**Title song by Lifehouse**_

**..**

_A Case of You_

_Chapter 5_

_Hanging by a Moment_

If living in Washington was like living inside a lime because of all the green, then South Dakota was the complete opposite with hues of orange and yellow and brown everywhere you looked. It had its grassy spots, to be sure, but nothing like what I was used to. We were headed toward Wall, and it made me think of that movie Stardust, which in turn made me think of Robert De Niro in drag. This had me dissolving into hysterics behind the wheel, making Peter give me another long, sideways look, something I was growing used to. He was warming up to me, though, talking more, answering more of my meddling questions.

The camp site that I'd found last night had been a little more high tech, with a small, squat brick building set back into a stand woods that boasted flush-able toilets and small shower stalls with doors that locked. Peter had nearly laughed at me when I made him check the place out for various furry animals that may want to cause me harm. I'd managed a partially warm shower, though, and used the facilities this morning to change out of the shorts and tank-top that I'd been wearing for several days into a light, airy wildly floral skirt and ribbed white tank-top, I'd pulled my hair up into a messy bun, only a few stray strands whipping around as we drove with the windows down.

It was soon discovered that Peter and I had similar taste in music, specifically the early punk genre. The Ramones were currently filtering tinny out of the mustang's speakers, and I was singing along to_ Blitzkrieg Bop_.

I soon had to make a pit stop to make use of the lady's room, and Peter stayed in the car. On my way out, I bought a bottle of water for myself, and a small novelty American flag for Peter. Dropping the flag in his lap, I unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a sip, setting it between us on the bench seat.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I felt bad for not being able to buy you anything to drink." I held my hand up as he opened his mouth to speak. "I know, I know. You don't have to say it. I swear I'm not crazy- my Dad had me tested." Laughing at my own joke, I pulled back onto the highway, and pointed the car toward Wall, and the Wall Drug Dinosaur.

Peter and I were moving past the awkward phase of new friendship, and I couldn't help but wonder _why_he was still with me. Surely he had friends, maybe even a wife, or someone. Something better to do than ride across country with me yammering away in his ear, surely tempting him with my blood. It'd been four days since Joe's diner and the chili I'd missed out on, and while I knew that human drinkers didn't need to hunt near as often as animal drinkers, the thought still made me uneasy at times.

"Don't miss the exit again," Peter said quietly, and I shook my head, noticing a small green sign that read _Wall, 1 mile._I slowed, and when the mile was up, hit the turn signal. The dinosaur was outside of the actual town, and after I'd parked in a dusty lot, I swiveled in my seat and pulled the scrapbook from the backseat, opening it to the page with the four routes Alice had provided me going through South Dakota. And there it was, even more fantastic in person as it had been in the picture, the enormous, green dinosaur. I grabbed my camera off the dash and eagerly got out of the car, rushing up to the statue. Peter followed less enthusiastically.

"Why are you so excited? It's just a big concrete and plaster shape."

I gave him a shocked look. "Just a..." Shaking my head, I moved closer to where he was leaning against the front fender of the car, and leaned into him, nose to nose. "I love dinosaurs. Love them. I still wear dinosaur pajamas at times. Don't knock the dinos. They're like... the giraffes of our time, and who doesn't love giraffes?. " I was completely aware that my comparison didn't really make a lick of sense, but I was satisfied with it.

Peter's eyes were narrowed, and focused on my mouth, and I blinked and stepped back from him. I turned, skirt swirling around my knees, and raced up to the statue.

"Come on, Peter! Bring your flag!"

I would have loved to come at night and seen the eyes of the dinosaur lit up, but I wanted to stay on schedule. The stops were nice, but I didn't want it to take a year to see the ocean on the other side of the country. It wasn't but a minute later when Peter trudged up next to me, small waving flag clutched in his fist. I whipped my camera up, and directed him to stand under the belly of the dinosaur. He complied with a put-out expression, standing stoically, hands at his sides.

"Hold the flag up!"

He directed a furrowed brow at me, but held it up parallel with his head. I pressed the shudder button, then tossed the camera in his direction, and rushed up to the giant green leg.

"I'm gonna try and climb it," I told him, sliding my hands up the smooth leg.

"Good luck with that," he said, walking passed me, back to the car. The roadside attraction was thankfully deserted save for us, and the stray rays of sun caught Peter's skin, casting reflective light all around him. I watched him as he slid back into the passenger side seat, putting my camera back on the dash, along with the flag.

Stepping back, I eyed the leg, round as a tree trunk, then wrapped my arms as high as they would go, and attempted to find purchase with my feet in order to climb up. I managed a few victorious inches before I slid back down. I let go of the leg muttering a few well chosen curse words, then circled the thing, looking for a good spot.

No such luck. The thing was smooth all over, likely purposefully designed that way to keep vandals away. Damn them. With a defeated sigh, I walked with shoulders slumped back to the car, where I found Peter shaking with laughter. His lips were pressed together, and turned up at the corners, his chest shaking with barely contained mirth.

"Laugh it up, Joker," I grumbled, sliding behind the wheel. "You could have helped."

"And ruin _that_ show? I don't think so."

**..**

I was snuggled inside my sleeping bag in the back of the car, and Peter had his back resting against the passenger's side door, legs stretched out across the front seats. This camp site was marginally different, as it wasn't technically an official site. I had been unable to find one, and had just considered letting Peter drive, but I didn't know what his driving skills were like, or if he even had a license. Both ridiculous concerns, because I knew with his reflexes, he was a much better river than I'd ever be.

"Peter?" I asked, starting up at the ceiling of the car.

"What?"

"Why are you still hanging around?"

He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "I don't have anything else better to do. Why? Do you want me to take off?"

"No, not really."

"Well then." I heard him rustling around, then the flick of his lighter. The smoke from his Lucky Strike filled the car, and I heard the window being rolled down, and saw over the seat, Peter leaning toward it, blowing a few perfect smoke rings out into the night.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__**My wee little author's notes will be down here from now on, so as not to muck up the beginning of the chapter. Many of you have expressed interest in Peter's POV, and it will happen eventually, but not until later in the story. If there's enough interest, maybe I'll do a few outtakes, scenes from his POV.**_

_**I would also like to say, that all of these road side attractions are real- I've never been to any of them, so I'm going off information I've found on the net, and pictures. So, if you've been to some of these places, and I've completely mangled the magical experience of them, be gentle with me.**_

_**BETA CALLOUT: I need a beta for this story. So, if you have good grammar, and are able to think outside the box, lug a PM my way, if you're interested.**_

_**Don't forget to check out the banner for this story, link is on my profile.**_

_**Reviews would be much appreciated. I may even love you forever if you review, who knows?**_


	6. Leper Messiah

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Twilight franchise. No copyright infringement intended._**

**_Pairing: Peter/Bella_**

**_ Chapter: 6/26_**

**_Title song: Leper Messiah by Metallica  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 6_

_Leper Messiah  
><em>

If I'd learned anything on this trip so far, it was that driving for hours and hours on end was not as fun as it'd sounded in my head, and that Iowa had a lot of fucking corn fields. Peter and I were driving toward a sun rise that was coming up all dusky pink, orange and yellow. I hadn't checked the book since our last South Dakota pit-stop, so I wasn't sure what Alice had planned for this state. Peter was sitting next to me, staring out the window at what had to be the hundredth swaying corn field we'd passed. It'd been nearly a week since Joe's, six days to be exact, but I already couldn't imagine this road trip without him.

I sighed heavily, blowing my hair out of my face, and reached over to fish around in Peter's bulging shirt pocket. He was still wearing the same clothes that he'd been wearing when we met, and I was really glad that vampires didn't sweat, because if he'd been human, he would have been unbearable by now. I'd discovered that most truck stops offered showering facilities, and while it wasn't the most ideal option, it was better than going without. Peter's pack of Lucky Strikes was between my fingers when I pulled them out of his pocket, and he turned in his seat to watch me as I shook one out of the pack, placed it between my lips, and held out my hand for his lighter. He forked it over, and I lit up, taking care not to take a big drag, as it was only the second cigarette I'd ever smoked in my life. Peter picked up the pack from where I'd set it on the dash among my camera, his tiny little flag and a Monty Python snow globe he'd insisted on buying at the last truck stop.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know," he said, cranking his window down.

"Why not?" I asked on an exhale. The thing really was making me nauseous, but I was bored, and what better way to fill the time than to give yourself lung cancer?

"Those things'll kill you."

"You smoke," I shot back, without really thinking. What a lame come back. _Emulating for the lose. _

"Yeah, but I'm already dead." He reached over and plucked the cigarette from between my lips, and took a long, deep drag off of it, blowing a straight stream of smoke out the window.

The sun was coming up fuller in the sky, and my mind was in a whirlwind. Christ in a side car, I'd never thought of it that way before. I had no idea why I hadn't, romanticizing the whole thing, I guess, but I'd never actually thought of them being dead.

"Holy shit. You're like a super powered zombie."

Peter snorted and flicked the cigarette butt out the window, rolling it back up. "Not hardly."

We drove along for a little while in silence, and as the sun rose high enough for its rays to reach into the car, they hit off Peter's exposed skin, turning the interior of the car into Studio 54, only without all the drugs and the sex. Just the marbled disco ball sitting next to me.

"How do you know Alice?" he asked as we were passing Des Moines.

Alice? How did he know about Alice? I'd never mentioned her, and he'd never read the book with me. Maybe he'd caught a glimpse of one of her texts.

"How do you know about Alice?" I asked anyway.

"Her scent is all over that book that you're always reading."

Wait, what? "Do _you _know Alice?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching into his pocket to dig around for something. "I've always found her kind of annoying, all that meddling and poking her little pixie nose into everything. She's the reason I broke this damn thing." He pulled his hand out of his jeans pocket and dumped the shattered parts of a cell phone onto the dash.

I was going to kill Alice. She'd known who this guy was all along, and had just decided not to mention it? All the while, well, at first anyway, I'd thought that he was another random nomad, like Laurent, or James. Well, maybe not James. That bastard had been bat-shit crazy.

"I met Alice in high school," I told him. "In Washington." I paused a beat. "How do you know Alice?"

"Jasper and I go way back," he said. "And where Jasper goes, Alice goes. What's up with the book?"

"It's a scrapbook that Alice gave me as a graduation present. It maps out the whole trip."

Peter made a noise in the back of his throat. "That's the kind of stuff that drives me nuts about her. You let her do that? Plan out your life?"

"Not my _life. _Just the trip."

"Why?"

I hesitated, wondering how to explain it. The fact that I was tired of being so responsible for everything, and nearly everyone that I knew. That I just wanted to sit back and enjoy for once, and that Alice had known that- had Seen that- and had done this for me.

"I'm not big on surprises," I finally said lamely, not wanting to get into the entire Baby-Sitters-Club that was my freaking life.

"Now that surprises me," Peter said. "You seem like the kind of girl who likes to live on the edge."

I wasn't sure if he was making fun of me or not, so I ignored the comment, and turned the radio on, using the Sex Pistols to drown out the conversation.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Just a short little scene, but one that I had written early on. Thanks so much for all of the reviewsalerts/favorites and I know I suck at replying, but I love every one.**_

_**Reviews would be like the icing on top of a rainbow filled cake. I would imagine that would taste like a wonderful bag of Skittles- taste the rainbow and all that jazz. **_


	7. On a Plain

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Twilight franchise. No copyright infringement intended. _**

**_Pairing; Peter/Bella_**

_**Chapter: 7/26**_

_**Title song: On a Plain by Nirvana  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<br>_

_Chapter 7_

_On a Plain_

We were leaving Le Mars, Iowa and I was so stuffed full with ice cream that I was miserable. I hadn't thought that it was possible to eat too much ice cream, but I'd managed. The Ice Cream Capital of the World Museum had been a glorious choice on Alice's part, and I sent more mental hugs her way. The picture I'd gotten of Peter standing in front of the sundae statue, staring at the ice cream cone in his hand with revulsion was priceless, and I couldn't wait until my disposable camera was full so I could get them printed out.

"Wait, so you actually dated Edward? Edward. The over one-hundred year old virgin?" Peter was asking from his seemingly permanent spot next to me in the passenger's seat. I'd cracked a Supernatural joke a while back, claiming that I was Dean and he was Sammy, always riding bitch, but he hadn't gotten it, stating that he'd never seen the show, which left me properly horrified. I vowed to right _that _wrong the first chance that I got.

"Yeeah," I answered, clutching at my stomach with one hand, steering with the other.

"But... why?"

I gave him a vague shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Peter shook his head and sat back.

"Do you ever dazzle people?" I found myself asking him.

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"You know.. dazzling. That's what I used to call it, anyway. When Edward would do this... thing, and I'd find myself going all mushy."

He was quiet for a second, before asking, "You mean glamoring?"

"Glamoring? What..."

"It's what we do to get our... prey to come quietly."

My vision swam for a moment, and I went dizzy for a split second, but I wasn't sure if it was from all the sugar, or this new revelation.

"Whoa, whoa." Peter moved my hands, and took the wheel from the passenger's seat, gliding us onto the shoulder of the road. "What's the matter?" He was leaning very close to me, cool breath brushing across my cheek, and I leaned back, because I couldn't get myself together with him that close.

"But..." I started. "Edward- he told me that all of the lore, like glamoring, was bullshit."

"Edward said bullshit?"

"Really? _That's _what you took from that? Of course he didn't say bullshit. But some of it- some of it's true?"

"Of course it is, Bella. There's truth at the root of every legend," Peter said to me.

"So... he _glamored _me? What kind of fucked up person does that?"

"Vampires do. We're not _people." _

We sat there, me with my head leaned back against the headrest, Peter shifted toward me. "I just.. I need a minute to process all of this."

"Alright."

* * *

><p>We stopped at a sandwich shop in some small, random Iowan town, and Peter waited in the car while I went in, dialing Alice on my cell. It was Jasper who answered, his voice a deep, soothing timbre over the line.<p>

"Hey Jasper."

"Hello, Bella. How's Peter?"

"He's... fine, I guess. Kind of strange."

"Yeah, he is."

I got in line behind an old blue haired lady in pin curlers and a house coat.

"Jasper, do you ever dazzle people?"

"What in the hell is dazzling?"

"I meant glamor, do you ever glamor people?" I kept my voice at a low whisper in the mostly empty store.

"A long time ago. When I used to drink from humans, after I left Maria. When I was with her, I didn't much bother with it."

Jasper had told me about Maria a long time ago, about his time with her. He'd glossed over how he'd managed to escape her clutches, telling me that was another story for another time.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, Peter just explained it to me, the whole glamoring thing, and I realized that's what Edward used to do to me, only I called it dazzling." The old woman, who smelled heavily of cats, was placing her order, and I shuffled a few steps further.

"He _what?" _I had to pull the phone away from my ear. "I am gonna kick that sorry son of a bitch's ass next time I see him." When Jasper was angry, his southern drawl kicked in full force, and I was glad that I was states away. Jasper was scary as hell when he was pissed off.

"My sentiments exactly," I said dryly.

"How did we not pick up on that before?" he wondered to himself.

"I'm not sure. Edward was very careful, I guess. Listen, I've got to go. I'll call you guys later, okay?"

"Alright. Bye, Bella."

My phone went into my pocket, and I stepped aside so the other patron could walk passed, and I stepped up to the counter to order my own sandwich. I was thankful for my jean shorts (much shorter than I was actually comfortable with) and t shirt when I stepped out of the air conditioned store into the baking heat, bag clutched in my hand. The shirt had _I don't dance to love songs _printed on it, and it was old, and worn, and soft and one of my favorites. I slid back into the car, and Peter shuddered when I unwrapped my food and took a large bite. Human food grossed Peter out, which I found wholly amusing.

As I was chewing up a rather large bite of sandwich, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, looked at the display, and saw that it was my dad. I was surprised that he'd made it this long without calling. Flipping the phone open, I brought it to my ear.

"Hey Dad," I said instead of hello.

"Bells! How's it going kid?"

"Just fine, I'm in Iowa. Stopping to have lunch."

"Good to hear that you're eating." Charlie was still sometimes stuck on that 'phase' I went through right after Edward left.

"Yeah, yeah. How're things there? How is every one?"

"Things here are fine. Some big news on the La Push front, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Emily's pregnant. They just found out a few days ago."

I felt my heart jump, and for a second wished I'd have been there with Emily when she'd gotten the news. "Sam must be over the freaking moon."

"Oh he is. You know how he is with Emily anyway, before too long, he'll be driving her nuts with his worrying."

"I'll bet. I'll have to call them later and congratulate them."

"That would be nice. I have to run, Bella, I just wanted to call and check up on you. Do you still have that pepper spray that I gave you?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled a little. "Yes, Dad."

"And you're not running short on cash?"

"Nope, I've been careful."

"Well, alright. Love you, Bells."

"Love you too, Dad."

He disconnected, and I put my phone back in the cup holder, and found Peter staring at me.

"Who's Emily?"

"A friend of mine from back home."

"And you're happy that she and this Sam are procreating?"

I gave him a blank look. "Well... yeah." Seriously, what was it with him? Procreating?

"I don't understand humans."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh I'm writing up an author's note for you! No ordinary author's note will do!<strong>_

**_ Well, maybe it will. That Edward, what are we going to do with him? SPOILER ALERT! Just so you know, there won't be an evil Edward in this story. I mean, come on, that's SOOOO 2010. And I can't believe I just pulled a valley girl. Quick, some one slap me. _**

**_ Hope you're enjoying the story so far, and reviews would be as welcome as an enormous cookie. And cookies are always welcome 'round here._ **


	8. Wonderwall

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the twilight franchise. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Pairing: Peter/Bella**

**Chapter: 8/26**

**Title song: Wonderwall by Oasis**

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 8_

_Wonderwall_

"My back is killing me, and I'm tired of sleeping on that damn bench seat." Peter made a noncommittal sound from the passenger's seat. "Would you mind if we got a motel room, so I can sleep in an actual bed?"

"I need to feed anyway," was his answer, and I took that as a yes.

"Have you ever thought about, you know, going vegetarian?" Peter shuddered much the same way he did when he watched me eat people food.

"God no."

"Hey, I'm not judging."

"You seem strangely comfortable with me killing humans, for being human yourself. I could be going out to drain a young girl with long brown hair and pretty brown eyes," he said, reaching over to tug at a small clump of my hair. It was the first time I could remember Peter actually touching me.

I gave him a shrug. "It's your nature."

"You're a strange human."

"Just out of curiosity, what kind of people _do _you... hunt?"

"Vagrants, mostly. Someone no one will miss."

I nodded. "I can see the logic."

We stopped not too long after at a place called The Pines Motel. The theme went along with the name with dark wooden headboards, dresser, end tables and small dining table. The rest of the room was decorated in forrest green and off white cream colors. The bathroom was a small closet-type with a shower stall, small sink with a mirror hanging above it and an abnormally short toilet. I flipped on the florescent lights, and immediately started the shower, letting it heat up. Peter was walking out the door when I went back into the main room to get a set of clean pajamas. I watched the door fall shut, and I wondered if he would come back, or if he would decide that he was bored hanging around the human.

I spent entirely too long in the shower, scrubbing until I was pink and washing my hair until it smelled like my shampoo. I pulled on my dinosaur pajama pants and white A-shirt and gravitated to the other room, flopping down on the nearest bed after grabbing the remote off the top of the T.V. It was tuned to some mindless sitcom, _Everybody_ _Loves_ _Raymond_, maybe, and I zoned out, enjoying the comfort. The trip was loads of fun, but a person could only handle being cramped up like that for so long. The television audience roared with laughter over something Ray did, and my thoughts turned to Peter. What was I going to do with him, should he come back? He was a grumpy, odd little vampire, but he was also kind of endearing. I could just imagine the look on his face if I actually had the gall to call him adorable.

I was surprised at my own nonchalance over the whole thing- shouldn't I have been worried, at least a little, that I was traveling in an enclosed space with a human drinking vampire? I shrugged to myself. I was having fun, at least, so why ruin it?

There was fumbling at the door to the room, then I heard the lock disengage, and then Peter stepped inside. He let the door fall shut, and his appearance took me a few seconds to take in. His eyes were wide, and ruby red, a little of the matching color dripping from the corner of his mouth. He had a bunch of clothes thrown over his shoulder. Peter shook himself, then looked over at me.

"Hey, you've got a little something," I tapped the side of my own mouth, "right there." My mouth went dry when he wiped the smear of blood with his thumb, then licked it away with a swipe of his tongue. I cleared my throat, and Peter moved toward the bathroom, mumbling something about a shower just loud enough for me to hear. The shower started, and I forced my mind away from thoughts of what Peter might look like under his clothes. I'd bet the car that it wasn't a horrible sight.

He stepped out of the bathroom not too long later, wearing a different pair of ripped jeans, a cream colored sweater with the edges of a t-shirt peaking out from the bottom, and a suit jacket over the combo.

"What did you do? Rob a thrift store?" I asked him, though it was kind of a relief to see someone with even less fashion sense than me.

Peter sent me a blank look. "What's a thrift store?" he asked, and my mouth dropped open.

"Please tell me you're joking." He just shrugged his shoulders. "You've been around _how l_ong, and you don't know what a thrift store is?"

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"A world of yes. We're going to have to fix this tomorrow."

Peter grunted, and I just interpreted it as "alright, whatever you say". He sat down on the other bed, and I tossed the remote his way before climbing under the covers.

"A hundred and sixty two," Peter said.

"What?" I looked over at him. He was sitting on the corner of his bed, facing the t.v., back to me.

"I'm a hundred and sixty two."

"Do you remember when your birthday was? You know, your... actual birthday."

He was quiet, and I didn't think he was going to answer, but then he said, "May sixteenth, eighteen forty four."

"Were you in the Civil War, like Jasper?"

"Yeah," he said, a shimmer of laughter in his tone. "But I was on the other side. It's caused many memorable arguments."

"I'd imagine. Will you tell me about it sometime? How you guys met, and all?"

Another pause before answering, "I suppose."

I snuggled down further into my blankets, and it didn't take long for me to fall asleep, _Everybody_ _Loves_ _Raymond_ quietly playing in the background.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: So, if you haven't noticed by now, I'm kind of taking Peter off the rails a little. Okay, a lot. I know he's normally written as younger, but hey, I like it, so... yeah. I'm going with it. Thanks for all of the great reviews, you-all are just made of awesome, yeah?<strong>

**Feedback would be much appreciated, and I'd sit here and stare at you and make you uncomfortable until you gave in and reviewed, but I have to meet my grandmother for lunch. Eep! **

**'Till next time, kiddos. 'Till next time. **


	9. LDF

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Twilight franchise. No copyright infringement intended. **_

**_Pairing: Peter/Bella_**

**_Chapter: 9/26_**

_**Title song: LDF by 100 Monkeys**_

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 9_

_LDF_

The first thing that I could smell when I woke up the next morning was the wonderful smell of freon from the air conditioner. The second was coffee. I popped up in bed and zeroed in on the white styrofoam cup on the table, next to a muffin on a small paper plate. Peter was sitting in his bed, watching Jeopardy, muttering the answers with accuracy. I scooted out of bed and shuffled over to the table, grabbed the coffee and drank it black and cold.

"Where'd you get the coffee?" I asked Peter after I felt human enough. I pinched off a piece of muffin and popped it in my mouth.

"Gas station a few miles away," he answered, eyes still trained on the t.v. screen. "I got bored around two and walked."

"Thanks," I said around a mouthful of deliciousness.

"Washington Monument," Peter said, head in the game, I guess.

I finished my breakfast, then went into the bathroom to change into a clean pair of shorts and an olive drab green tank top. I ran a brush through my hair and scrubbed my teeth, then swung my ass out of the bathroom, and dropped my bag onto my bed.

"You ready to go thrift storing today?"

"You make it sound like an all day thing."

"Oh, it will be."

I made a quick trip to the car to retrieve my laptop from one of my bags in the trunk. Back in the room, I hooked up to the motel's wireless, punching a few things into my search engine. A whoop of victory escaped me a few moments later, and I punched the air with a closed fist.

"What in the hell is the matter with you?" Peter asked, finally tearing his eyes from the game show.

"Shut up," I said. "I found the holy freaking grail of thrift stores. A Goodwill Outlet," I clarified at his blank look.

"And this is a good thing?"

"Oh yes. We're going to have to make a stop for rubber gloves first."

Peter just shook his head and flicked the t.v. off.

An hour later, we walked through the automatic doors. I reached into my bag and grabbed a pair of the gloves we'd just bought, and snapped them on, looking around.

"What in the hell is this place?" Peter was beside me, staring around in horror, sunglasses over his eyes.

"Goodwill Outlet," I told him.

"It's filthy."

"Which is why we have these." I flexed my gloved hand in his face.

"Can we please not do this?"

"Oh come on. It'll be fun. I once found a penis pump at one of these places."

Bin upon bin rowed the room, with racks of clothes lining the edges. You paid by the pound, and had to root around, but it was an adventure. I advanced on the bin closest to us, and began digging around, but came up empty handed, so I moved to the next.

I was shoulders deep in my sixth bin, when I struck gold.

"Yes!" I pulled my hand out, and came up with a small bust of the bride of Frankenstein.

"What're you going to do with that?" Peter asked, coming up behind me.

"What _can't _I do with this?" I stroked it, and tucked it under my arm, diving back in. By bin nine, Peter joined in, his curiosity getting the better of him, and he began poking around with his gloved fore finger. By the time we were done with the bins, we'd filled half a cart, and we moved on to the racks of clothes. Peter found a bright blue t shirt for me with a T-Rex on it, and I instinctively leaned up on my toes and kissed his cold cheek, his stubble rough against my lips. We both froze, and I pulled away quickly, folding the t shirt over my arm. I moved away to another rack, and practically buried myself in it.

It was nothing. Just a simple peck on the cheek between friends. Absolutely nothing. So why were my cheeks flushed, and why where there butterflies going haywire in my stomach? I was being ridiculous, and I needed to stop acting like a virginal idiot. Shaking my head, I forced my attention back to the shirts I was thumbing through, picking out a few that I liked, and I found one for Peter with a picture of The Dude on it. I wasn't sure if he'd get it or not, whether he'd seen _The Big Lebowski,_ but the shirt would be his.

We'd been in the store for right around four hours when we finally sidled up to the check out and paid for our finds. It all came out to a little over twenty dollars, and I grinned at Peter as we carted our bags out to the car.

"Oh come on, you have to admit that was fun."

"Yeah, it wasn't that bad. I enjoyed the part when you played tug of war with that ninety year old woman over the waffle iron."

"I'd seen it first!"

"You wanted me to flash fang at the poor thing. I don't even have fangs. And when are you ever going to use a waffle iron? You live out of a car." Peter chuckled. "I think I like you."

I slammed the trunk of the car down and stared at him.

"You're okay, you know, for a human," he said, rounding to the passenger's side.

"Uh... thanks. I think."

We drove back to the Pine Motel, and I paid for another night, as I didn't feel like hitting the road just yet. I phoned out for pizza, then tossed Peter the shirt I'd bought for him. He looked at the front, almost smiled, then tore the tag off. Peter slid out of his suit jacket, tugged the sweater and t shirt over his head. He was bare chested, all pale skin and firm muscles, and my eyes were wide. He pulled the dark grey shirt on, and looked over at me.

"The dude abides," I said, my voice coming out croaky.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: On an odd note, I myself went thrift storing today. I went to this enormous flea market in an old abandoned factory. It was awesome. <strong>

**Peter and Bella are getting a little closer, yes? Still looking for a beta or a prereader. Anyone interested, just let me know.**

**Any fans of The Big Lebowski in the house? **

**Leave me a review, lemme know what you thought.** **Pretty, pretty please? **


	10. Fuck You:An Ode to No One

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Pairing: Peter/Bella**

**Chapter: 10/26**

**Title song: Fuck You: An Ode to No One by the Smashing Pumpkins**

**Pre-read by Mrs Jim and beta'd by MissySassafrass- many thanks to them!**

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 10_

_Fuck You: An Ode to No One_

Yesterday I'd been greeted upon waking by the heavenly smell of coffee. This morning the sounds of grunting and moaning had me shooting straight up in bed, eyes darting to Peter's neatly made bed, then to him sitting on the foot of the mattress, intently watching porn. His head was cocked to the side, and he was leaning forward, seemingly oblivious to all else. I cleared my throat, but he didn't budge.

"Uh, Peter?" He turned his head slightly toward me. "What're you doing?"

"Watching this movie," he answered, turning back to the screen.

"Why?"

A vague shrug of his shoulders. My face flushed red when I looked at the screen. "You're supposed to watch porn alone, you know."

"Porn?"

"Yeah, you've heard of porn before, right?" Dear Lord, please don't make me explain pornos to a nearly two hundred year old vampire.

"Of course I've heard of them. I've just never watched one before."

I sat up in bed, swinging my legs over the side. "Really?"

"Mmm. Never had to, I guess. I think this is the longest I've ever gone without sex."

I forced a small laugh. "What? You have some saucy lady vamp on the side?" I asked, trying for joking, forcing down an irrational bout of jealousy. What was with me?

Peter shook his head. "Mostly human women. Easier to tempt."

Do what now? "How?" I found myself asking.

"What do you mean how?" Peter asked. "They spread their-"

"No, that's not what I meant," I cut across him. "How without, you know, killing the woman? You don't... lose control of your blood lust, and stuff?"

Peter barked a laugh. "Of course not." He turned the T.V. off then turned around to look at my blushing, down-turned face. "You mean, you and Edward didn't..."

"No, he always told me that he'd lose control and hurt me."

Another laugh. "Oh man. That's right up there with 'dazzling'."

I wasn't seeing the humor. A wave of that hated insecurity -that I hadn't felt since right after Edward had left me- reared it's ugly head, and my thoughts were going haywire. Had it been revulsion on his part, then? It was fun to play with the human, but to actually touch it was too much?

"Hey."

I looked up, and Peter was sitting next to me on my bed. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing. I'm just being stupid."

"It's obviously not nothing."

I shrugged vaguely, and made to stand up, but Peter grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled me back down.

"I'm guessing that the boy messed with your head."

"If you're talking about Edward, you'd guess right."

"You want me to kill him?"

This was so unexpected that I choked out a laugh. "No, I think I'll pass. Stealing his car was enough."

"The 'Stang?"

"Yeah."

"Nice."

I made to get up again, but he pulled me back down. I flopped down on the bed with a grunt, and scowled up at Peter.

"Do you believe me about the human, vampire thing?"

"I guess."

He shook his head slowly. "I think I'm going to have to show you." In a blink, Peter was hovering above me, and in another I was bare from the waist down. I sat up quickly, and Peter moved back, kneeling between my legs.

"What in the hell are you doing?" I asked, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Showing you," He replied simply. Peter's hand slid up the tender flesh of my inner thigh, and I'm sure I went cross-eyed for a moment.

"O-okay then." His hands were naturally cold against my suddenly heated skin, and I laid back on the bed.

"You're not a virgin, are you?" he asked from his spot between my legs.

"No."

"Who'd you lose it to?" he asked.

"Werewolf."

A low chuckle from him. "Strange, strange human." Then he was spreading my legs, holding them apart, and I felt vulnerably exposed for all of half a second before he put his cold, dry tongue to use, and I arched off the bed with a moan. His left hand slid up my abdomen, fingers and nub caressing as he parted my folds with the fingers of the other. It felt odd- his tongue was like ice, swirling, probing, licking. It was dry, but my body more than made up for that, and I'd never felt anything like it before.

Paul had been great in bed, and I'd always been satisfied, but I was moaning wantonly under Peter's attentions, and I couldn't bring myself to care- to care that I was making a spectacle of myself, to care what this might mean. No more over thinking. That was the point of this whole thing, this trip and everything else- to live without worrying about the consequences. So when Peter snaked his hand up my abdomen to run the pads of his fingers over my breast, and I all but wrapped my legs around his head, draping them over his shoulders. I let my brain go into stand-by and let my body take over.

I quickly surmised that this must be Peter's extra gift. Alice could see the future, Jasper could manipulate emotions, Edward could read minds, and Peter could give earth shattering orgasms that made a woman's toes curl. His lips attached themselves to my clit, and I'm fairly certain that a beam of light shone upon us, and the angels sung their chorus, and my back arched off the bed as I came. A quick glance down showed Peter smirking up at me from between my spread legs, and his face just screamed 'told ya so'. I was breathing heavy, coming down, and I'd have to give Peter credit for proving his point later, when I could form complete thoughts first.

Turns out, that the beam of light was the mounted wall sconce shining into my eyes, and the choir of angels was our neighbor banging on the wall, yelling at us to be quiet. My head flopped to the side, and I glared in the direction of their room. With a kiss to my inner thigh, Peter pushed himself up, and returned the pounding against the adjoining wall, and we both froze when his fist went right through wood and plaster, leaving him elbow-deep in wall.

"Well... shit," I said as Peter pulled his arm out. "Good thing this place didn't require I.D. or plastic."

Peter nodded. "We should probably go," he said, brushing plaster off his arm.

"Yeah, seems like a good idea." I still wasn't moving though, and Peter smirked again, reaching down to offer a hand.

I moved to the bathroom with a change of clothes, and we were out the door and in the car ten minutes later.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Oh yeah. Mature content this chapter, forgot to mention it. <strong>

**Review, if it tickles your fancy- and I really hope it does. Would make this poor writers day. **


	11. Dog Days Are Over

__**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight.**

**Pairing: Peter/Bella**

**Chapter: 11/26**

**Title song: Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine**

**Pre-read by Mrs. Jim- many thanks!  
><strong>

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><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 11_

_Dog Days Are Over_

We were carving our way through Illinois, and the awkwardness was back full-force. At least it was for me- Peter seemed oblivious, which was really starting to frustrate me. Here I was, wanting to devour the man, and he was more interested in road signs and all of the birds he'd deemed stupid. I wasn't sure what the birds had done to earn the judgment, but it was drawing his attention away from more important matters, like my libido.

I had no delusions of feelings, there was no little school girl crush. It was a purely physical matter, and the fact of it was, I hadn't been laid in quite a while. Peter had given me the best orgasm of my entire life just two days ago, and hadn't mentioned it since, but I wanted more. Needed more. Instead of being shacked up in a motel, though, having the wild gorilla sex like I wanted, we were headed to Essex, Illinois. I'd let Peter pick the spot this time, and he'd chosen a place called Jack Barker's Metal Menagerie. According to the information I'd found online, Jack Barker was a retiree who sculpted animals out of spare car parts and other assorted things. It was a good choice, I'd give Peter that. The few pictures I'd been able to find were impressive.

I chanced a glance at the man riding shotgun, and came face to face with my camera. Peter snapped a picture, and I jerked my head back at the blinding flash.

"Peter! What the hell?"

"Payback," he said, putting the camera back on the dash. "Camera shouldn't be filled with just me."

I rubbed at my eye, trying to pay attention to the road, now seeing spots.

"You want me to drive for a while?" Peter asked, surprising me.

"Uh... do you have a license?"

"Of course I do." Peter lifted his hips up off the seat, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. I was distracted by a flash of hipbone as his shirt rode up, and his low-slung jeans slid even lower. I unconsciously licked my lips, forcing my eyes back to the road. Peter handed me his wallet- it was worn brown leather, the seams held together by duct tape. I flipped it open and glanced down at Peter's driver's license, then barked out a laugh.

Turns out, not even a vampire could take a good picture at the BMV. Peter was scowling at the camera, looking positively menacing. I handed his wallet back to him, and pulled onto the side of the highway.

"Okay, switch me," I said, putting the car into park. Peter got out, and I slid across the seat. I kicked my flip flops off and tucked my feet underneath me as Peter slid behind the wheel. He set his wallet on the dash among the various other things that we'd gathered- my camera, his little flag and the snow-globe, and a small plastic moose. I wasn't really sure why the moose was there. It was something Peter had picked up on our thrift storing excursion. I'd teased him, saying it was for him to play with while I was sleeping, something he denied a little too fervently.

Peter pulled back onto the highway smoothly, steering with his left hand, little nub of his middle finger tapping against the wheel. I snatched his wallet off the dash and pulled his driver's license out.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Just wanted a better look."

Peter sighed and I inspected the piece of plastic for more information.

"Peter Sellers? Is that your, you know, actual human name?"

"Yeah."

"It says here that your address is 1313 Mockingbird Lane in St. Louis Missouri." I arched a brow at him. "You have a sense of humor. Who would've guessed?"

"Hey, I can be funny," he defended, snatching the card back.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Patricia."

Peter scowled then reached into his jeans pocket for his cigarettes. He lit up and cranked down his window, taking a deep drag, the cherry at the tip burning bright.

"Why do you smoke?" I asked, reaching over the seat for my bag. I rummaged around in the enormous orange tote and came up with a thick, black hair band which I slid on to keep my hair out of my face.

"I already told you- something left over from my human days." He took another drag. "And I like the way it burns , makes my lungs feel useful."

I watched as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth, the tip of his thumb brushing almost absently against his bottom lip before another long inhale. The little bastard butterflies in my stomach acted up again, and I looked away. I was about to burst and I wasn't sure how much longer I would last without attacking the poor man.

* * *

><p>The Menagerie had lived up to our expectations, and then some. We'd spent a good two hours weaving between the sculptures, picking out favorites and taking pictures, using up almost what was left on my camera.<p>

It was mid-afternoon and the air was pleasantly warm. We were driving through rural Illinois, passing fields and farms. The sky was a clear blue, only a few puffy clouds dotting the view here and there. Peter was driving again, and we sped passed telephone poles, small black birds resting pleasantly on their wires. I'd kicked my flip-flops off again and propped my feet on the dash, the hem of my loose gray skirt pooling at my knees.

"You hungry?" Peter asked from the drivers seat. I looked over at him, smiling a little that he'd actually asked, instead of just answering the small growl of my stomach. That was one thing about him- he never commented on my bodily functions, unlike the vampires I was used to. I wasn't sure if it was manners or revulsion on his part.

"A little. You?"

Peter's lips twitched, then there was a small smile playing across his lips. It was the first time I'd ever seen him smile, unless you counted smirking, and I didn't. "No, I'm good for a while longer."

"Just don't get any ideas," I said playfully, then reached over and snatched the sunglasses from off the top of his head, then slid them over my eyes.

"Hey! Careful with those. They're my favorite. I've had those since the forties."

"I won't break them." He was still eyeing me with concern. "Do you want them back?" I asked.

"No, you can wear 'em. Just... be careful."

Peter steered with his left hand, his right arm stretched across the back of the bench seat. Occasionally his hand would brush against my hair, and I was painfully aware of every move.

A little while later, we swung through a drive-thru, then followed a series of green signs to a small community park that wasn't more than a few picnic tables and a swing set. I carted my fast food bag and soda to a table and sat, pulling out my lunch. A perfect breeze played through, and Peter sat across from me, averting his eyes from my food.

The park was quiet, the birds having halted their twittering and frozen in fear by Peter's presence. We sat under a tall tree, its leaves fluttering, dappling us with sunlight. Reflections of light from Peter's skin were cast onto my own, and he looked starkly out of place with his burning red eyes. I had yet to return his sunglasses, and I wondered when he would mention them. Slipping off my flip flops, I curled my toes in the slightly overgrown grass, and ate slowly, feeling no need to rush.

"You don't like shoes, do you?" Peter asked, looking up at me.

"Not really. There aren't many chances to go bare foot in Washington, though, so I'm embracing it while I can."

Peter nodded and looked back to the table top, where he was slowly carving something into the wood with his thumbnail.

"I don't like them much myself," he said, eyes on his work. "I only started wearing them about twenty years ago."

"Before I was even born," I said, trying to look at what he was doing.

"When were you born?"

"September of eighty-five."

"Eighty-five." He bent his head over his work. "I was in New York City then."

"What's it like there?" I asked.

"Loud," was all he said.

I crumpled my sandwich wrapper and shoved it into the bag, along with my fry box and empty cup. "You ready?"

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans. "Yeah."

We stood and I craned my neck to see what he'd carved and had to roll my eyes. He'd carved a rather good likeness of my boobs into the wood, and I'd have to say something later about him defacing a children's park with inappropriate drawings.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe that you'll hang around a vampire, but you're afraid of racoons."<p>

"Just shut up and check."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm checking."

I stood by the entrance to the squat brick building that held shower stalls and toilets that were, hopefully, rodent free. I folded my arms across my middle and heard Peter poking around inside, checking for furry lurkers.

"There's nothing in there," he said, coming back out. "But I would avoid use of the toilets." He wrinkled his nose and walked away, back toward the car.

I made my shower quick and changed into a clean tank top and cotton shorts, balling my dirty clothes in my hand as I made my way back to the car. I tossed the clothes in the trunk as I got my sleeping back out, and made my bed in the back, settling in for another night. Peter shifted in his seat up front, looking back over the seat at me. He sat there for a few moments, just looking, hands folded on top each other, chin resting on top of them.

"Wanna know what I think?" he finally asked.

"Sure," I said, folding my arms behind my head.

"I think we should get naked."

I tried to swallow around my sudden case of dry mouth and a series of images passed through my head.

"Is that so?" I asked, somewhat weakly.

"Mmm."

"Quite the romantic, aren't you?"

He just shrugged, and continued to watch me, and it took me few seconds to realize that he was waiting for an answer. Should we? I didn't see any reason why not. I wanted him, we were both unattached, and it had been a very, _very _long time.

I cleared my throat. "Alright."

His door opened, and I could hear his boots crunching on the gravel. He walked around to the door at my feet, and opened it, warm evening air rushing into the car as he climbed in. In the narrow space of the backseat, he climbed on top of me. There were twin thumps as he kicked his boots off and onto the floorboard. He did away with my sleeping bag, deftly unzipping and extracting me from it before tossing it over the seat.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Wassup my awesome readers? No porn for you this chapter! OOoh, burn. This is the last chapter I had written, so updates will slow down a bit, because now I'm writing as I go. <strong>

**Hope it tickled your fancy, floated your boat, rocked yur socks and all that other good stuff.**

**Reeeevvvvview!**


	12. I Can't Sleep

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight_**

**_Pairing: Peter/Bella_**

**_Chapter: 12/26_**

**_Title song: I Can't Sleep by Eric DiSanto_**

**_Edited: Yours truly_**

**_A Case of You_**

**_Chapter 12_**

**_I Can't Sleep_**

Sex was nothing new to me. Paul and I had done things that I couldn't even spell. With him, though, it was always rough and tumble, any tenderness burned away by intense lust. Last night with Peter had been something different. Far beyond anything I'd ever had with Paul. While the cramped backseat of the car was less than ideal, it hadn't hindered either of us.

The sun was beginning to come up, and I'd learned first-hand that vampires had stamina. I was sprawled across Peter, wondering if I'd ever be able to feel my legs again. My chest heaved and burned a little with every breath, and I knew I'd have to get into shape if I wanted to keep up with him. Peter was running his fingers through my hair, wondering to my back when he'd reach the tips, then up, stroking.

"If you were a vampire, this is where I'd bite you and claim you."

I raised my head, resting my chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Claim me?"

He nodded. "Let other vampires know that you were mine, and not to be touched."

I cocked a brow. "So, if I were a vampire, I'd be yours?"

Peter nodded again. "You can be now, if you want."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Good thinking." Peter shifted, and I shivered, sweat cooling, along with his icy skin chilling me. "You should probably get some sleep now, huh?"

"Probably," I answered. "Since we spent the night occupied with more… pleasurable activities, why don't you drive while I sleep?"

"Sure." Peter looked around. "Where are my pants?"

We both sat up, and I fished my clothes off the floorboards. "I'm not sure," I told him. "I don't see them."

He pulled his shirt on and I wiggled into my shorts.

"Oh, wait." Peter leaned over and rolled down the back window on his side and looked out, down at the ground. "Yep, there they are."

"How did you pants get outside?" I asked as he retrieved them.

"I believe that was all your doing," he said through the window, pulling his pants on. "You're like an animal."

My face flushed red, and I ducked down to grab a brush out of my bag. I was brushing my hair vigorously when I felt Peter's fingers on my chin. He turned my face toward him, and gave me a light kiss.

"Hey, I didn't say that it was a bad thing," he said, kissing me again.

"So, it was… I mean, it was alright?"

Peter grinned at me. "You kidding? It was more than alright. Where's this coming from?"

I shrugged and looked away.

"You've never been shy with me before, don't start now." He stood up, extracting himself from the open window.

The day was going to be a hot one, humidity already making the air thick. I fished in the front seat for the sleeping bag, deposited it in the back, and then climbed over, settling in the passenger's seat. Peter was rummaging in the back for his boots. After he shoved his feet into them, he slid behind the wheel, starting the car with a twist of his fingers. I was asleep before we made it to the highway.

After a day of driving through Illinois and part way through Indiana, we decided to stop at another motel. I wanted a hot shower and Peter wanted to catch a marathon of _Friends _that he somehow got word of.

I kept my shower short and hot, just slipping the t-shirt Peter ha bought me at Goodwill on before heading back into the bedroom. Peter seemed totally engrossed by an argument that Ross and Rachel were having on the small TV screen and I climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

Peter shook himself a little, turned the TV off, and then crawledup the bed toward me. I'm fairly certain my gulp was audible in the quiet room, but it was cut short by Peter peeling back the covers I'd just pulled on. Hands on either knee, he pushed my legs apart and kneeled between them, reaching back to tug his shirt over his head. I pushed up onto my elbows and watched him unfasten his faded jeans.

"Your shirt, take it off." His voice was a low growl that send pleasant little shivers through me. I complied, and by the time my head emerged, Peter had his jeans off and was tumbling us back against the pillows.

Our lips me, backs arched, stomachs meeting as he smoothly slid home. Peter filled me to the point where it was almost too much, but it was a sweet ache. We fit together, well acquainted with each other's bodies after the night before.

He was about as deep inside me as he could get without an operation, up on his knees, strong hands grasping my hips, bringing me to meet him with every thrust. I writhed shamelessly against the pillow under my head, still drying hair spread out over the white sheets. My legs wrapped around his hips as I grabbed the headboard, literally hanging on as his powerful thrusts shook the entire frame.

We took our time, moving against each other, sweat slicking my body where we weren't joined. Pleasure sparked inside of me, shooting from my middle to my fingertips, making me moan loudly. I felt my orgasm mounting, and I reached for Peter, who collapsed against me, never breaking his pace. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I kissed him as I reached my peak, Peter following moments later.

* * *

><p>Peter and I strolled out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind us after another shower. My phone chirped from where it was sitting on a side table. Flipping it open, I saw it was a text from Alice.<p>

_Now that you're quite finished, Skype with me and Jasper?_

I flushed a little, and answered her back in the affirmative. The night was as sweltering hot as the day had been, with not a star to be seen as I walked across the gravel parking lot to fetch my laptop from the trunk of the car. Carting it back inside, I set up on the small dining table and hooked up to the hotel's Wi-Fi and signed into Skype so that I could video chat with Alice and Jasper. Peter was sprawled across the end of the bed, engrossed in _Friends _again.

The call came through on the computer, and I answered it.

Alice and Jasper were grainy on the screen, both smiling broadly.

"Hey guys," I greeted, leaning back in my chair.

"Hi Bella!" Alice chirped. "How's it going?"

"Just fi-"

"What in the hell is that?" Peter cut across me. "Is that Alice?" I looked back and he rolled off the end of the bed, walking over to stand behind my chair.

"Rude much?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm video chatting with Alice and Jasper."

"Video chatting?" He leaned down, eye level with the computer.

"I'll explain it later," I assured him.

"Hey, Peter," Jasper said across the connection.

Peter grinned crookedly at him. "Hey, brother."

That was the extent of their greeting, but I could tell that they were glad to see each other's faces.

"I wanted to tell you, Bella, before the missus starts nattering on about one thing or another, that I saw Edward last week."

I turned my head to look over my shoulder at Peter. "Did you just growl?" I asked him, amused.

He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on a freckle on my shoulder. "Maybe."

I smiled a little. "That's so cute."

His eyebrows shot up and he turned his head toward mine. "It wasn't cute!" he defended. "It was… rugged and… manly."

Planting a quick kiss on his lips, I turned back to the screen to find both Jasper and Alice grinning stupidly at us.

"Now that is good to see," Jasper said. "Anyway, as I was saying, I saw Edward last week, and I kicked the shit out of him for that _dazzling _bullshit."

"Jasper even managed to keep him out of his head the while time. Edward had no clue why he was so pissed. It was hilarious!" Alice said, tinkling laughter echoing through the connection. I chuckled, and Peter raised his fist, presumable to fist-bump Jasper.

And fist-bumped right through the screen of my laptop.

Peter froze, and the computer sparked before fizzling and powering down. Permanently.

I reached for my cell phone which had begun ringing, and answered, still staring at my violated computer.

"Bella?" It was Jasper at the other end. "What happened?"

I shook my head, and cleared my throat. "Yeah, Peter just kind of decimated the computer."

The vampire in question was detangling himself from my laptop, shooting me a sheepish look. I hung up on Jasper, who was laughing his ass off.

"Sorry," Peter mumbled, picking up the computer to inspect the damage.

"It's alright," I answered blankly. I still couldn't believe that had just happened.

"Are you mad?"

"No, not mad. Tired now, though. Think I'm going to turn in."

"Okay," Peter said, and walked with me over to the bed where he climbed in beside me.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's Note: So… should I eat this humble pie now or just save it for later? Seriously, being internet-less is really, <em>really _bad. I still don't have internet. I'm uploading this at a public access point. Yeah. But I'm waiting on my series two of Sherlock to arrive in the mail, so I figured I'd get this posted and clean my house spotless before it does and I completely lose myself in that. Seriously. Do any of you WATCH that show? Chairman wow! It eats your life, but I love every. single. second of it. _**

**_Anyway, forgive the long gap, and lemme know what you thought. Then c'mere and let me love on all of you. I missed you guys!_**


	13. Borrowed Time

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 13/26**_

_**Title song: Borrowed Time by A Fine Frenzy**_

_**Beta: Yours truly**_

_**Author's Note: This is more of a chapter-ette, really. Very short, but I wanted it in there. Happy reading, and also, Happy Leif Garrison Day.**_

* * *

><p><em>A Case of You<em>

_Chapter 13_

_Borrowed Time_

When I woke up some hours later, it was still dark and Peter was gone. For a brief second I panicked, thinking that he'd taken off. Then I noticed the note on the pillow next to me. It was written on motel stationary in Peter's small, cramped hand.

_Bella-_

_Went to feed. I'll bring you back something. Feel like Chinese? I do._

_-Peter_

I blinked at the note for a few moments, processing, then refolded it and set it on the bedside table. The low hum of the air conditioner filled the room, and I snuggled back down into the surprisingly comfortable motel bed. I thought about Peter.

He was like no one I'd ever met, as cliché as that sounded. Vampire, human, wolf; Peter was a creature unto himself. He was light years away from Edward. Peter made me feel different; he made me feel wanted, he didn't make me feel like a child. There was no pedestal, no tip-toeing around with him. I could say whatever came to mind, and yeah, maybe he'd look at me like I was insane, but he didn't judge me.

I wasn't in love with him. Not even close. I was very much in _like _with him, something I hated even thinking. It just sounded ridiculous, but it was the only way I could categorize it. That was the problem- there was no categorizing Peter. He didn't fit into any of the nice round pigeon holes of the world, and I really think that's what drew us together.

I found myself drifting to sleep again, only to be woken a short while later by Peter returning to our room. He brought with him the smell of Chinese take-out and what I over-dramatically thought was death. It was a smell I couldn't describe, and really had no desire to try. He also had a black laptop case slung over his shoulder. Peter dropped the case on the foot of the bed, set my food on the table next to my broken computer, and moved to the side of the bed next to me.

When he kissed me, his mouth tasted of blood, metallic and salty. His eyes were the blazing red that I found oddly attractive, and I curled my fingers around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulled away. He said something about a shower, and moved into the bathroom, the flimsy wooden door closing with a click behind him. I knew he did this for my benefit after every hunt, for that smell that I couldn't identify.

Rolling out of bed, I shuffled, still half asleep, to the table. I carted my food back to the bed and flicked on the bedside light before snatching up the remote. Channel set on a cheesy horror movie, the kind with a generic name and obvious corn syrup blood. I dug into the Kung-Pow chicken and crab rangoons with gusto, setting a steady fork-to-mouth rhythm as I zoned out on the over-acting wonder. Scarfing down every bite, I had to resist the urge to lick the container to catch any grains of rice that managed to escape the first round. I chalked my appetite up to all the sex, and figured if I gained twenty pounds, I could blame it on Peter's penis.

Setting the containers aside, I reached for the laptop bag and drug it across the bed. Sure enough, there was a shiny black Gateway inside, and I pulled it out, running my fingers over the closed monitor.

"Peter?" I didn't bother raising my voice; I knew he could hear me regardless.

"Yeah?" he yelled over the din of spraying water.

"Where'd you get the computer?" I asked as I opened it.

There was a few seconds of awkward silence before he answered. "I... borrowed it."

"Uh-huh." I hit the silver button and powered it up, start-up music filling the room.

The desktop loaded, and I cocked my head to the side, taking in the picture of a donkey. Why on earth would anyone have a donkey as their background? Maybe they were enthusiasts. Donkey enthusiasts. I was a little freaked out over how strangely comfortable I was using a stolen computer, and I figured it was all the hanging around with vampires. I'd naturally acclimated to their different moral codes. Charlie would kill me if he ever found out. Clicking into the document folder, I scrolled down, seeing what kind of people donkey enthusiasts were.

I furrowed my brow in confusion when I came across a video file titled _hu-cow. _What in the hell was a hu-cow? With no little trepidation, I clicked on it. The media player opened, and the video started, and my confusion grew when the first shot was in what looked like a barn. The camera operator rounded into what I thought was a horse stall.

I was wrong. Horribly, _horribly _wrong.

"Oh my- oh _God!_" My finger hit the stop button, and I slammed the computer closed, kicking it down the bed away from me. I scrunched against the headboard as close as I could get. "Peter!"

The bathroom door burst open and Peter came rushing out, towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes darted all around the room, and then to me, cowering against the headboard. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just who in the hell did you 'borrow' that computer from?"

Peter gave a vague shrug of his shoulders. "Why?"

"Look for yourself. I'm not touchin' it again."

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. I heard the video start when he pushed the button and I looked resolutely away. It stopped after only a few seconds. There was some clicking, and I looked at Peter through my peripherals, surprised that he knew how to use a computer. He was clicking through files, and pulled up another video. This time, instead of a barn, the sound of crying emanated from the computer. Then the screaming of real fear that mingled with the fake coming from the TV, and I pushed off the bed, rushing into the bathroom. The toilet received my freshly-ingested take out in giant heaves.

"Peter, smash that fucking computer," I said between dry heaves.

"On it," he told me, and I heard the unmistakable sound of equipment being ripped apart.

Wiping my mouth with a hand towel, I moved to the sink and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush I hadn't bothered to put away after my shower. After rinsing and spitting, I went back into the main room, and found all traces of the stolen computer gone. Peter was sitting on the end of the bed, watching me warily. I shuffled over to him, standing between his legs. His head rested on my still queasy belly.

"Did you kill the person you 'borrowed' that computer from?" I asked, hands on his shoulders, staring at the generic artwork on the walls without really seeing it. In my mind, I was replaying the short second of rape pornography I'd seen.

"Yes," he answered, the word muffled by my shirt.

I nodded slowly. "Good. Thank you."

I crawled back under the blankets, but was unable to sleep. Peter shuffled into the sheets behind me, and I reached for his hand, the cold firmness reassuring.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note: Absolutely no intention of offending anyone with this chapter. I'm not sure why, but this came to mind very early in the story, and wouldn't get out, so it's there. And there it is.<strong>_

_**Let me know what you thought. **_


	14. All Hands Against His Own

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 14/26**_

_**Title song: All Hands Against His Own by The Black Keys**_

_**Beta: Me, Myself and I**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter 14**_

_**All Hands Against His Own**_

What could be said about rural Indiana? For one thing, it would top Iowa in corn fields, if it weren't for all the soy bean fields. Peter was driving, and I was curled into his side, my floral skirt pooling under my knees. Peter's arm was stretched along the back of the seat, and I was trying not to fall asleep.

It was full night out, and it was a calm, beautiful thing. The moon was full and shining; the stars bright, swirling belts across the black sky. There wasn't much on either side of us, and we had the radio off. The comfortable silence that filled the car was soothing.

The loud ringing of my cell phone shattered it.

A glance at the luminous dash revealed that it was nearly midnight, and so I knew who it was without checking the display.

"Hey, Mom," I said as I answered. My mother's eccentricity nearly rivaled that of the man sitting next to me, and so I wasn't a stranger to her calling me at odd hours of the night, most of the time sounding confused why I wasn't as up and about and chipper as she was.

"Bella! How are you, baby? How's your trip going? I can't believe that old truck has lasted this long! Are you taking lots of pictures? I can't wait to see them! Oh it's so good to hear your voice!"

Or it would be if she let me get a word in edgewise.

"Good to talk to you too, Mom. How's Phil?"

"Oh, he's great. Virile as ever!"

"Mom!"

"What? You're a grown up now. Anyway, is that old truck nearly dead yet?"

"I don't exactly… have the truck anymore."

"What do you mean? You're not hitching are you? That can be so dangerous! Even though I did hitch a ride with this guy sometime back in the seventies-"

"I'm not hitch-hiking, Mom. I just have a different car."

"What car?"

I mumbled into the phone and Peter withdrew his arm, fished out his cigarettes and lit one, tip glowing cherry red in the dark interior of the car.

"What was that, Bella? You're mumbling, speak up!"

"I said I've got… Edward's car."

"Oh, Bella. You're not back with _him _are you? He's so… so… prissy!"

At this Peter barked out a laugh, that my mother unfortunately caught.

"Who was that? That didn't sound like Edward."

"It wasn't. And I'm not back with Edward, Mom, I just stole his car." I clapped a hand over my mouth, not believing that I let that slip out.

"Good! Serves him right, now who was that I overheard?"

"Peter."

"A new boyfriend?"

I wasn't sure how to answer her; _was _Peter my boyfriend? I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was smoking his cigarette, steering with his left hand, trying not to laugh at me. No, I really didn't think he fit into the _boyfriend _slot.

"He's… a friend that's… I don't know, Mom! He's Peter." And that, I thought, explained it perfectly.

"Well, as long as you're being safe. I've got to run, baby. I'll call you again soon!" She disconnected, and I shook my hand, flipping my phone closed. I tossed it onto the dashboard among the assorted paraphernalia of our trip and sunk back into the seat.

"She sounds… interesting," Peter said before flicking his dwindled cigarette out the window. It collided with the pavement, skittering along throwing small sparks. He snaked his arm across the seat again and I leaned into him.

"That she is," I said with a sigh, resting my hand comfortably on Peter's thigh.

"What was she like when you were younger?"

"Pretty much the same. My mother's always been very… flaky. We moved around a lot when I was a kid until Charlie bought her the house in Phoenix. That was more for my benefit than hers, though."

Peter's fingers carded through my hair, playing with the long strands. "Was it difficult?"

I shrugged. "Not really. I just don't think she was equipped to be a mother. Renee was always more of a friend than anything, and at least I can say life was never dull."

He chuckled and I laid my head on his shoulder, silence taking over again. Peter's hand slipped from my hair to my side, resting just under my breast. He pressed slightly and held his hand there, and I knew he was feeling my heartbeat. He'd told me that it fascinated him, that he could feel the steady rhythm, and for once not have the undeniable urge to stop it.

It was a long while before I spoke again.

"What about you? Do you remember your family?"

My skin were he'd been touching was left degrees cooler as he moved his hand back to the seat.

"No. I remember a few things from being human, like the smoking, and the fact that I liked sweets, but hated ice cream. But not my family."

"How can anyone hate ice cream?"

"I didn't like the cold." He shrugged. "Jasper's the only family I can remember having."

"You never did tell me how you met him." I adjusted my skirt, pulling it down to cover my knees as I stretch my legs out over the seat as best I could.

"He turned me for Maria."

My fidgeting stopped immediately and I pushed my hair out of my face as I looked over at him.

"He's told you about her?"

I nodded.

"Figured as much. Long story short, we did terrible things for the Wicked Bitch, and after a while, we became friends. Took me years to convince him to run with me, but he finally gave in. We slipped off during a… celebration after a particularly triumphant victory for Maria. Never looked back."

Peter withdrew his arm from the back of the seat and switched hands on the wheel. "Did he tell you the kinds of things he –we- used to do?" At my nod, he clenched his jaw and stared out the windshield. I'd never seen Peter look like this before, and for a few moments, I felt bad about bringing it up. Until he opened his mouth and asked, "Do you think less of me now?"

My heart cringed and he wasn't looking at me. I erased the few inches that separated us and touched his bicep, curling my fingers in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "Never," I told him quietly, kissing his scruffy cheek before laying my head on his hard shoulder again.

He was tense for a while after; I could feel his coiled muscles under where I had laid my hand on his chest, reaching under his arm. Peter relaxed little by little until he switched hands on the wheel again. His arm went around my shoulders, his fingers found their way into my hair again, and I tightened my hold.

* * *

><p>It was a particularly cloudy day in Fairmount, Indiana. Unusual, I was told, for this time of year. I swept through the automatic doors of the pharmacy, a packet of newly developed pictures in my hand and a new disposable camera in the plastic bag hanging from my elbow.<p>

Peter was sitting on the hood of the Mustang smoking a cigarette, and he looked up as I approached. His eyes were covered with his returned sunglasses, and I felt a little jolt when he smiled at me.

The more time I spent with Peter, the more I couldn't imagine things without him. I didn't know what would happen once the trip was over; it had started as a way to get out of Forks, but I hadn't really planned it as a permanent escape. I liked Forks; Charlie, Emily and the Pack were there, along with Sam and Emily's baby as soon as he or she arrived. I wanted to be around for that. But I didn't want my… thing with Peter to end at the east coast.

"How'd they turn out?" he asked, breaking me out of my reverie, nodding toward the pictures in my hand. I sat down next to him on the hood and opened the packet.

"I only looked at the first few, but good from what I could tell."

We flipped through the pictures, Peter scowling at the ones I'd made him stand for. The last in the stack, the one taken just today, were of Peter standing in front of James Dean's headstone. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips, and his hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his torn and faded jeans. He was squinting at the camera, crimson irises blazing up at me from the picture.

"Met him once, you know," Peter said, taking the picture from me.

"Really?"

"Mm." He nodded. "I also slept with Monroe and can open doors without touching the handle."

I just looked at him blankly.

Peter grinned. "You'll believe anything."

"Shut up," I said, fighting my own smile. Bumping his shoulder with my own, I slid off the car. "Let's get back on the road."

We slid into the car, this time with me in the driver's seat, and backed out of the parking lot.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I can't believe how long it's taken me to get this chapter out! Sorry, guys, and I'll try to churn the next one out quicker. <strong>

**And also, everyone give yourselves a pat on the back, and thing real, real hard about it being from me. Nearly 400 reviews? You guys really deserve hugs, but I really only ever hug my grandmother. And mommybrook and SweetT129. But that's beside the point. **

**I've been kicking around the idea of doing a companion Paul/Bella for this thing. Their relationship before he imprinted. Would anyone be up for reading it? Lemme know.**

**Now, let's start a love train of reviews! **


	15. You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 15/26**_

_**Title song: You've Got to Hide Your Love Away by The Beatles**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter 15**_

_**You've Got to Hide Your Love Away**_

We decided not to stop in Ohio. Peter seemed to have something against the entire state, but couldn't really pin-point what. I didn't exactly have a burning desire to stop anywhere, and when I checked Alice's book, she'd left Ohio out completely. The slightly self-important text she'd sent me after I'd discovered this prompted me to send her a picture of my middle finger.

I was behind the wheel, eating up miles of asphalt with the windows down. Peter was next to me, chewing on his thumbnail, watching the scenery fly by. We were nearing Cincinnati, and Peter began singing under his breath.

"…Maybe you and me were never meant to be, but baby think of me once in a while…"

"-I'm at WKRP in Cincinnati!" I joined in, making Peter smile over at me. I smiled back, and shook my head, wind catching my hair. "Seriously, what is it with you and sitcoms?"

He just shrugged and reached for my hand. I'd never admit it to him, but it was a little weird holding his left hand. The nub of his middle finger tended to _wiggle _occasionally, but I supposed it was just one of the things that made Peter, Peter.

Several hours later we were close to the Pennsylvania boarder and the sun was going down, washing the sky in dusky pink and red. We'd switched spots after I'd stopped for lunch, and I was curled up in the passenger's seat, content to let Peter drive through the night while I slept.

Peter seemed to have a different idea, though, and surprised me by pulling into the parking lot of a deserted rest stop. I couldn't lie; the place was on the wrong side of creepy. The windows of the small, squat building were completely smashed out, leaving gaping black holes amongst the scraggly brick. Weeds and grass grew untamed, sprouting wildly from cracked pavement.

"Peter, what're we-"

My train of thought was cut short by Peter cupping the back of my neck and turning my face toward him, covering my lips with his own. We were leaning toward each other across the front seat, like high-schoolers coming home after the innocuous second date. Soon Peter's other hand was on my hip and he was pulling me across the seat toward him until I was awkwardly pressed against his chest. The way Peter kissed made my toes curl and anticipation whirl in my middle; he always _promised _pleasurable endings with each stroke of his tongue.

We'd already thoroughly debased the backseat of Edward's precious car, and I thought that the front could use a healthy dose of debauchery as well. I tugged on Peter's shirt, trying to tell him without breaking contact to slide over into the passenger's seat. He got the hint, and as he moved, I shifted to straddle his lap. Pushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt up, I began fumbling with his belt buckle. I pulled my mouth from his when the buckle proved stubborn, and Peter swept my hair out of the way, fixing his attention on my neck as I looked down, concentrating on the metal and leather obstacle.

He was out and I awkwardly wiggled my panties off from under my yellow skirt, and then sunk down onto him bringing loud groans from both of us. I kept my movements slow, drawing it out, enjoying. My fingers tangled in his hair and I let my head droop back as Peter's lips trailed from the side of my neck, down my throat and over my collarbone. I used his shoulders for leverage and he gripped my hips through the smooth fabric of my skirt, hard enough that I knew there would be marks the next day. I tugged Peter's hair, bringing his face to mine as I began to reach my peak, and he kissed me deeply as he reached his.

Contentedly, I settled into his lap, snuggling into his chest, mind foggy with post-coital bliss. Peter's hand stroked up my back, skin chilling me through the thin layer of my tank top. His chest was still; Peter never made any pretenses, and I slipped my hand under the hem of his t-shirt, resting against the firm muscles of his abdomen.

"Have you ever thought about turning?" he suddenly asked, chest rumbling under my ear.

"A few years ago, it was _all _I thought about," I answered, playing with the sparse hair that disappeared into his still undone jeans.

Everything around us was still, insects chirruped in the tall weeds around the deserted rest stop. Full night had fallen. I shifted on Peter's lap until I was reclining against his chest, looking out the windshield at the peaceful darkness. It wasn't so creepy anymore. Peter's arms slipped around me, hands resting flat on my stomach.

"And now? Do you ever think about it now?" he asked, lips against my ear.

I turned my face toward him. "Sometimes."

Peter trailed his lips up the column of my throat, nose brushing through my hair. "I could do it, if you wanted." My heart sped up a little, and my eyes widened when I felt the cold tip of his tongue against my skin. Peter pulled away slightly. "Don't be afraid," he muttered.

"I'm not afraid," I told him, laying my hands over his. "I just don't want it to be now."

"When?"

"I don't know. A few years from now, maybe. I want to spend more time with my Dad, with my friends back in Forks. Hold Sam and Emily's baby, have a chance to play the surrogate auntie. If I were turned, they'd never… they would hate me. That would be it."

Peter rested his chin on my shoulder, stubble rough against my skin. "Why would they hate you?" he asked.

"My friends back home, they're… well… they're complicated. Technically I suppose they're shape shifters, but they like to call themselves werewolves. Makes them sound tougher," I told him with a small laugh. "Vampires are their natural enemies; it's instinctual for them to hate your kind. And it's in your nature to hate them."

"I doubt I'd hate them."

"Well, you're the exception to pretty much everything, aren't you?" I felt his face twitch up into a smile.

"Well, when you want it, let me know. I'll be more than happy to oblige." Peter pressed his lips against my throat and then moved his chin back to my shoulder.

I propped my feet on the dash and snuggled further against his body. We sat there together, looking at the stars.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: The song Peter and Bella sing is the theme from the 70's sitcom, WKRP in Cincinnati. Peter likes his sitcoms. <strong>

**I had a lot of positive response to the idea of a Paul/Bella companion, so I'll start working on that soon. Can't say when it'll be out. Maybe when this one's finished, maybe before, I'm not sure. **

**Thanks so much for all of your awesome reviews; I have a serious geek-out Sally Fields moment every time I get an email alert. Keep it up, and thanks again!**

**Mrs. Monster**


	16. California Waiting

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 16/?**_

_**Title song by Kings of Leon**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

_**California Waiting**_

Where the Ducks Walk on the Fish was located in Linesville, Pennsylvania. There were, apparently, so many fish in the Spillway on the Pymatuning Reservoir that a duck (or, most likely, any other type of bird) could walk across them without sinking into the water. People gathered to hurl bread out into the writhing mass and watch the fish fight for it, and, according to Alice's entry into the book, was the second most popular tourist attraction in Pennsylvania, the first being the Liberty Bell. I guess you just couldn't beat hurling chunks of food and watching animals, even fish, fight for it.

This was where we were heading.

We were going at night, because Peter didn't like to be around so many people and without being allowed to pick one of them off. He assured me that he would just go after the weak, sick ones, but I'd given him The Look and he'd shut up about it. About twenty miles out we pulled into one of those huge twenty-four hour SuperStores; I wanted to get a couple loaves of bread and Peter wanted to pick up a few things as well.

"_Books? Why are you shopping for books?"_

"_Do you have something against reading?"_

"_No, quite the opposite, actually. But I have books."_

"_I know, in the trunk."_

"_So why are you buying more?"_

"_I've read them all and I get bored when you sleep. I can only play with the Marty the Moose so many times, Bella. A man's imagination can only go so far."_

"_Alright, fine. But Harlequin Romances? Really, Peter?"_

"_Shut it, woman."_

The Spillway was deserted but rather well lit when we pulled into the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under the soles of my flip-flops and Peter's boots as we walked from the car to where I could already hear the fish flopping and water splashing. But I noticed that as we got closer and closer, things were getting quieter. Peter and I stepped up to the railing, and every single fish went still and sunk below the water's surface.

"What the hell?" I asked, looking over at Peter who just shrugged, the plastic in his hand that held my bread crinkling with his movements. The water was absolutely still now, and I frowned. "Hey! Come back up here!" I yelled out over the now tranquil looking water.

"I don't think that's going to work."

My shoulders slumped, and Peter nudged me a little. I looked over at him, and he kissed me square on the lips before handing me the bag of bread.

"I'm going back to the car." I nodded, and after another kiss he turned and made his way back across the parking lot. The car door shut, and I hung the bag from the crook of my elbow.

The air was warm with an unsurprising fishy smell, and I leaned against the railing, enjoying the light breeze that was skimming over the water and across my face. To my surprise there was movement under the murky surface of the spillway, and a few minutes later the fish were wiggling and rolling over each other again.

"Of course," I said out loud to myself. Peter's presence must have terrified the fish, causing them to freeze and sink under the surface. I looked back to the car and through the windshield saw the red glow from the tip of a cigarette and silvery smoke curling from the open driver's side window. Knowing he could see me with perfect clarity, I smiled in Peter's direction before turning back to the spillway. The plastic bag and bread wrappers were damp from the flopping of the fish as I tore the first one open and tossed a wadded up clump of white bread into the water.

The fish were on it immediately and I laughed, watching as one rolled over all the others to claim the food.

* * *

><p>The night was cloudy, obscuring the stars as I lay in the backseat of the car wrapped up in my sleeping bag. Peter was in the front, back against the passenger's side door with his legs stretched out, smoking a cigarette and reading one of his new books. After some poking he informed me that it was about a pirate named Javier and his hostage, a proper Englishwoman named Jocelyn.<p>

From the front, my cell rang and Peter tossed it back to me. It bounced off my open palm and fell to the floor and I had to scramble to snatch it before the voicemail picked up.

"Hello?" I answered without looking at the display, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, Bella. How were the disgusting fish?" Alice's chipper voice rang down the line.

"Hungry," I told her, collapsing back into the seat, pulling my sleeping bag up around my shoulders.

"Ew. Anyway, so, you're close to New York…" Alice trailed off.

"Yes, and?"

"Well… the family has settled in New York."

Something twisted in my gut and I sat up just as Peter went still in the front seat. I swallowed thickly.

"And?"

"They want to see you."

The thing was, I wouldn't actually mind seeing them; Esme, Carlisle, Emmett. Hell, even Rosalie. And I missed Alice and Jasper terribly. Alice had explained the situation, and Edward's stipulation, to me shortly after coming back, and I'd accepted it. But on some level, there was still a tiny twinge of bitterness; if they'd missed me so badly, why hadn't they told Edward to get lost and visited? Even made a phone call? Still, I thought about Emmett's bad jokes, Carlisle and Esme's calm natures, and I knew that I wanted to see them.

"Hang on, Alice," I said into the receiver, and looked across the seat to Peter.

"It would be nice to see my brother," he said, and I knew we were going. From the loud squeal in my ear, Alice knew too.

"Alright, we'll visit," I told her needlessly. "But I don't want to see Edward," I amended.

"Oh, he's not here. He went to South America after Jasper kicked his ass, trying to hunt Victoria."

I couldn't hold in my laugh. "Oh man, are you serious?"

"Yeah, Jasper told him that he was a dumbass."

"Yeah he is. Mostly because the LaPush boys turned her to dust nearly a year ago."

"What?" Alice shrieked. "How did I not see that?"

"Dunno, Alice. I'd really like to get some sleep now, though. See you in a few days."

"Yeah, see you then." She disconnected, and I threw the phone over the seat without looking. Peter snatched it out of the air and tossed it on the dashboard.

"Victoria's a vampire?" he asked.

"Mmhm."

"Why did your friends kill her?"

"She was trying to kill me," I mumbled sleepily.

"Remind me to thank them someday."

"Okay," I told him. My eyes snapped open when I processed what he'd said, and figured that was Peter's way of telling me he'd be around for a while. I fell asleep with a smile on my face a few minutes later.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: There's been an amendment with how long this story is going to be. Originally it was twenty six chapters, but I'm cutting that back a bit. Not sure at the moment what the final count will be, but I looked over my outline again and saw a bunch of things that were mostly just drivel. The story would have been needlessly dragged out, and we all would have gotten sick of it. <strong>

**Anyway, hope you liked. You guys are awesome, over 400 reviews! I've never had a fic get that many, and this one's not even over yet. Maybe this chapter will put me over 500? Well see! If not, I'm still extremely grateful for the reviews I DO get, and I love all of you guys. **

**Maybe I love you a little **_**too **_**much. **


	17. Cheap and Cheerful

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.**

**Pairing: Peter/Bella**

**Chapter: 17/?**

**Title song by The Kills**

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

_**Cheap and Cheerful**_

We were nearing the address that Alice had provided in upstate New York, and the car was filled with tense nervousness. Or, more like _I_ was filled with tense nervousness. Peter was calmly watching the scenery go by.

"Peter, they're going to hear me pee. I don't know if I can handle that. Maybe we shouldn't go." My fingers where white knuckle tight on the steering wheel.

"I hear you pee all the time."

"Your penis has also been in several of my orifices. There's a difference between you and them."

"It's not like they haven't heard it before. You spent, what? Almost an entire year around them? It'll be fine, Bella." Without looking, he reached over and pried one of my hands off the steering wheel and held it in his.

"Yes, but what about Rosalie? She hates me. I don't want to make her uncomfortable in her own house."

Peter leaned over and kissed my cheek, stubble rough against my skin. "You're deflecting. What's really bothering you?" He pulled our hands into his lap.

"What if Edward comes while we're there, and he does the weird thingy and I'm zapped back into gross, moony-me? He turns me into an idiot, and-"

"Pull the car over."

"What?"

"I said pull the car over."

I pulled onto the shoulder of the highway, ignoring the indignant honks of the other motorists. Peter slid across the seat toward me, touching my chin to get me to look at him before taking my face gently in both hands. He poured heat into his icy kiss and as his tongue slipped into my mouth, I could feel myself calming.

"Listen," Peter said, words mumbled against my lips. "I will not let that happen. You are you, we are us and I won't let him interfere with that."

I nodded, skin barely touching skin as our lips brushed together. Peter pulled back, lightly stroking my bottom lip with his right thumb.

"Besides, Alice said he was in South America, right? What are the chances he'd show up this weekend?"

A grin curled the corners of his mouth as I lightly took the tip of his thumb between my teeth, biting down gently so as not to break my teeth. "You're right," I said, releasing him, twining my fingers with his long ones, turning back to the wheel.

* * *

><p>The house, buried deep in the Syracuse area of upstate New York, was nearly a carbon copy of the one in Forks. At least three stories, white with an absurd amount of windows speckling the front of the house. A long, black paved drive curled in a circle around a garden of colorful flowers, and I parked directly in front of the house. Summer heat seemed dampened here, and it reminded me of Washington weather, only drier. In my nervousness, I slammed the car door as I got out and smoothed down my bright blue skirt, realizing that they would probably be able to see right through the white tank top I was wearing. At least I hadn't gone bra-less today.<p>

Peter was at my side in a second, reaching for my hand. I gripped his until my knuckles were white-tight, and hesitated before walking up the wide steps to the front porch. The door was white, laid with two large panes of glass that ran from top to bottom. Before I could change my mind, turn around and dive back into the car, Peter knocked soundly on the door. I shot him a panicked look, and he just shrugged, shoving his free hand deep into his pocket.

She must have been waiting just on the other side of the door, because not a full second later, it opened and Alice was grinning toothily at us. Peter released my hand as Alice snatched me against her, and I could feel the excited energy vibrating through her small body. I couldn't help but smile as I hugged her back.

"I missed you!" she said, her voice tinkling bells in my ear.

"Missed you too, Alice."

And then I looked up and saw the worried face of Esme hovering behind Alice. I squeezed Alice a little tighter before letting go, reaching for Peter again. His hand in mine balanced me, and I pulled him along to where Carlisle was standing with his arm around Esme's shoulders. If vampires could fidget nervously (without doing to purposefully), these two would be vibrating out of their shoes. Peter squeezed my hand, nub flicking my palm, and I tightened my hold.

"Hello, Esme. Carlisle."

They, of course, looked exactly as I remembered them. Esme exuded a caring type of love, honey eyes gleaming, soft hair flowing to her shoulders; Carlisle with his forever twenty-something face and eyes that showed everyone of his actual six hundred plus years. The nervous moment was broken by a loud crash echoing from somewhere in the house, followed by thundering footsteps. I shifted in the direction of the noise, smile already curling my lips, bracing for Hurricane Emmett.

I barely saw him coming as he bound into the room and lifted me in his arms, my feet dangling a few inches from the ground. Peter's hand slipped from mine, and I looked over Emmett's massive shoulder to see him standing next to Jasper, shoulder to shoulder. Then Emmett spun me in a circle, voice booming in my ear.

"Bella! How the hell are you?" He hugged me tight enough to make my ribs creak ominously, and I batted a hand at his shoulder.

"Put me down! Breath! I need breath, Emmett!" I croaked out. My head swam as he put me back on solid ground, and Emmett's smiling face crowded my vision. "I missed you, too, ya big lug." Emmett laughed and slung an around my shoulders, and my face was cracked in a full blown smile. I hadn't realized until now just how much I'd missed this family.

"Hey, Jasper," I said to the smiling man as he and Peter began elbowing each other for no apparent reason.

"Bella." I felt a swelling of happiness, and appreciated how happy he was to see his brother.

We were standing in the foyer of the enormous house, and it was smooth lines and monochromatic color schemes as far as I could see. What, or who, I couldn't see was Rosalie, but I assumed that she was here somewhere; Emmett was here, and where one went the other followed. I wasn't going to let this bother me right then; her issues with me were her own, and I couldn't even begin to understand them.

"Peter, you old dog! How are you?" Emmett said, and I could feel his voice rumbling against my side. "And what's this I hear about you doing the hibbity-bibbity with Bella here?"

My eyes went wide, and I could tell from the look on Esme's face that if she could blush, she would be tomato-red.

"Emmett!" she admonished as Carlisle tried to hide his laugh.

My own face flushed as I smiled, happy to be there.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! My brain's being a real bitch lately. That being said, I'm not <em>entirely <em>happy with how the second half of this chapter went, but I was trying to keep up with the angst-free zone (excluding the weird computer chapter) that is this story. **

**Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, and I've been completely blown away by how much love this story has gotten! Hope to have the next chapter out within the next week. **

**Happy Mother's Day tomorrow to all of my readers who are Mommas. **

**Now, leave a review, and I will send you all mental-baked goods. Which, I mean, if I may be arrogant for a second, I am one hell of a baker. **


	18. Creep

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 18/?**_

_**Title song by Radiohead**_

_**Author's Note: Please note that I have done very little research for this chapter as far as geography goes; it could be entirely implausible for them to reasonably drive in one night from the Syracuse area where the Cullen's live to Central Park. Forgive me if I've screwed anything up.**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

_**Creep**_

Of course, as usual, things didn't go to plan.

A day and a half into our visit and we were in Central Park at night. It was warm and beautiful, belts of stars dancing across the velvety dark sky, and my hand was twined with Peter's as we stood next to each other. He swayed gently as Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ washed through the park, notes resonating so beautifully they were nearly visible swirling on the breeze and all around us. I'd had no clue that Peter loved classical music, and thought that I could probably spend eternity with this man and learn something new about him every day.

Alice and Jasper as well as Carlisle and Esme were with us as we stood apart from the rest of the crowd that was spread out across the grass surrounding the outdoor stage. Jasper sat on the ground, Alice between his legs leaning back against his chest, his chin resting on her shoulder. His eyes were closed, and judging by the peacefulness that filled me, Jasper was enjoying himself. Esme and Carlisle stood a foot to our left, Esme's cheek resting against her husband's chest; Esme's eyes were closed and Carlisle had his face buried in the thick fall of his mate's hair. So private were these scenes between the two couples that I looked away, to Peter who stood with his shoulder pressed against mine, moving both our bodies as he swayed, savoring the music. Peter's eyes were closed, and the light breeze ruffled his shaggy hair, and I felt a swelling of feeling in my chest such as I'd never had before.

This feeling made me pause, a small frown tugging at my lips. I knew that I'd been bit-by-bit falling for Peter; since the night in the hotel with the stolen computer, when he'd lain with me after I couldn't sleep all that night. That deep _like _I felt for him was turning into something _else. _I'd known Peter only a few short weeks, though it felt much longer, and I was attached, whether I liked it or not. As afraid as I was of being hurt again, for falling for another vampire, I wasn't about to deny myself anything; I thought I deserved this happiness. I needed to know Peter's feelings on the subject, though, before I gave my heart permission to go into a free-fall. Not that it would wait for my say-so, the naïve, hopeful thing.

The concert ended and we drove back to the Cullen's house in Carlisle's car; Alice, Jasper, Peter and I were all cramped into the backseat. I was sitting on Peter's lap, his arms firm and solid around me, thumb stroking in circles on my stomach over the soft cotton of my loose navy blue tank top. When we returned to the house it was after midnight, and I said goodnight to the family and headed upstairs to the bedroom Esme had given to Peter and I, the man himself following me. The room was simple, decorated in soft ivories, pale blues and dark woods and was perfect for us; extravagance made both Peter and I uncomfortable.

"Tonight was fun," I said as I laid my knee-length white skirt on the foot of the bed. "Almost like a real date." I shot Peter a smile, tossing my tank-top on top of my skirt. Rummaging around in my still-packed bag I extracted my hair brush, sitting on the edge of the bed in my bra and panties, running it through my hair. I felt the bed dip as Peter sat on the other side, then heard the twin thumps of his boots hitting the floor as he kicked them off.

"You know," he said, "it was music that first made me realize that I love you." The brush fell to the floor with a barely audible _thunk _as it slid from my hands. "We were driving through Illinois and the Ramones came on the radio. You sang _I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend _so loudly and off-key that I couldn't help it."

My heart pounded wildly in my chest; Peter's voice was soft, almost monotone, as if he were commenting on what nice weather we'd had the day before. I turned to face him, drawing my leg under me on the bed. He was facing away with me, head tilted down, and I knew that his stare was fixed on his socked feet.

"Peter, I-"

He shook his head and turned half-way to face me, eyes wide. "What?"

"I- It's been happening for me, too. Since that night you stole that computer, and-"

"Did I say all of that out loud just now?" he cut across me.

"…Yes?"

"Shit."

My heart dropped to my feet, my gaze to the striped duvet. "Did you not mean to, then?"

"Not right in this moment."

"Oh."

"That doesn't mean that what I said isn't true, Bella."

Our eyes met. "You love me?"

Peter nodded, and my face split into a wide smile. "I love you, too."

His grin was one of the most brilliant things I'd ever seen in the hazy glow of the love bubble we suddenly found ourselves in. "Well… that's good."

I couldn't help but laugh before I crawled across the bed toward him. We were facing opposite directions, heads tilted awkwardly when our lips met.

The door swung open then, and Peter and I pulled apart. We watched Alice wander into the room, seemingly at random and lost in her own world.

"I don't understand," she said to herself. "How is he doing it? How did I not see him? See this?"

I moved off the bed and went to Alice, comfortable with my state of undress around her. "Alice? What is it?" My hands went to her tiny cold shoulders, and she stopped, eyes fixing and focusing on me.

"There's something wrong," she said. "With my visions. Things are slipping past me, things I should have seen before."

"What things, Alice? What did you see?" Over my shoulder, I said to Peter, "Get Jasper." I felt a small breeze as he went passed me and out the room before looking back to Alice. The look she was sending me bordered on apologetic.

"I know you didn't want to see him," she said, and I felt an uneasy wave begin to curl in my stomach. Alice shook her head, and put her hands over mine. "Edward's coming." A frown pulled her beautiful face down. "And I'm not sure who it is, but he's not alone."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: And there we have it, chapter eighteen. I tried to be a little quicker with the update this time, and I think I've got this story back on track in my mind, so subsequent chapters should be a little quicker as well. <strong>

**Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews and encouraging words last chapter! Hope you liked this one as well, and please leave a review. **

**My goal for this story, and I realize that it's a shallow one, is to reach 1,000 reviews. If I don't reach it, know that I am extremely grateful and much appreciative of the fantastic reviews that you guys leave me. But, I mean, there's celebration pie on the line here if I do get there. **

**Thanks guys, and I'll see you all next time. Love you all!**


	19. Rebel Yell

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended. **_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 19/?**_

_**Title song by Billy Idol**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

_**Rebel Yell**_

"Do you want to leave?"

My small sigh echoed around the room. Peter was lying on his back on our bed, and I was curled up into his side, my head resting on his chest. "No," I told him. "We just got here, and I'm not going to run away from anything- least of all _him._"

"I wonder what he'll say about the car," Peter mused.

"Oh shit. Maybe I do want to leave."

Peter kissed my forehead, and I could feel his lips pull up into a grin. I'd just gotten out of the shower a few minutes ago, and the heavy wet fall of my hair was soaking through Peter's shirt, though neither of us seemed to mind. Edward was set to arrive in just a few hours, according to Alice's warped vision, and I would be completely lying if I said that I wasn't nervous as hell. Peter's fingers wound into my hair, carding through, untangling the damp tresses.

"Everything will be fine, Bella," he murmured, chest rumbling under me.

I sincerely hoped that he was right.

**..**

The scant few hours before Edward and his mystery companion's arrival were going by surprisingly quickly. Peter and I were in Alice and Jasper's bedroom; I was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Alice's head in my lap. She was still upset over the fact that her visions concerning Edward were so skewed. I ran my fingers through her short, soft black hair, trying to comfort her. Peter and Jasper were sitting on the end of the bed, heads together, speaking quietly. I could see their lips moving, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Before, this type of secrecy always grated on my nerves, but I knew that if I asked, Peter would tell me without hesitation what they'd been discussing. If it had something to do with me, that is. Suddenly, Peter lifted his head, and sniffed. His brow furrowed, and I watched him stand up, still sniffing, and walk to a low chest of drawers across the room.

Jasper spoke what I was thinking. "Peter? What in the hell are you doing?"

The vampire in question just held up a finger, wordlessly telling us to hang on. He slid the palm of his hand over the shining, dust-free surface before the fingers of his right hand curled around the handle of the last drawer on the left. Alice had lifted her head from my lap, and was watching Peter, grinning. Peter sucked in an audible breath as he pulled the drawer open and withdrew a small leather pouch from its depths.

Jasper suddenly stood. "Oh… _that_. Maybe I should…" he was eyeing the door.

"Don't even _think _about it," Peter said, pulling the neck of the pouch open, peering into it. "You ass."

I sat up straighter, watching with blatant curiosity. "What is it?"

Peter upended the pouch, and into his right palm rolled the severed middle finger of his left hand.

"_You _had it?" I asked, looking at Jasper. He shrugged sheepishly. Peter shot him a glare, tossed the leather pouch over his shoulder (it landed neatly back into the still open drawer), and spit on the nub of his middle finger. I wiggled off the bed, and went to him, watching as he brought the severed finger to the nub, and then winced slightly as the flesh began to sizzle. A sickly sweet incense smell filled the room that was horribly familiar from the incident in the ballet studio a few years ago. My eyes widened as the flesh began to knit back together, and after the span of maybe a minute, Peter's left hand was once again whole. I took it in both of mine, and poked at the fixed middle finger, immediately letting go when Peter hissed, as if in pain. I flashed a quick look up at his face, noting the grimace scrawled across his features.

"Still sensitive," he explained, shaking his hand, and then turned to Jasper. Before I could blink, both of them were gone from my sight, only the breeze ruffling my hair, and the crashing of glass signaling their departure through the second-floor window.

I turned to Alice, startled. "Should we...?"

She shook her head, and bounced off the bed. "Nope. This is kind of what they do. Happens every time." Alice grabbed my hand. "Come on, let's go watch. Normally they end up a few articles of clothing short by the time they're done." I quickly followed her down the stairs and outside, where we met Emmett and Rosalie. My nerves twanged a little at the sight of the statuesque blonde vampire; it was her first appearance since we'd arrived nearly two days before.

Peter and Jasper were a blurred, snarling mass, rolling around on the ground faster than my eyes could follow. Something flew from the cyclone of brawling male bodies and hit me in the face. I pulled it away and recognized Peter's shirt, now barely a rag. Alice easily dodged a shoe, and Emmett snatched Jasper's shirt out of the air.

I leaned toward Alice. "Um… why are they ripping each other's clothes off?"

"My opinion has always been latent bi-sexual tendencies," Rosalie said, not looking at me.

Alice looped her arm around mine, and winked at me, shaking her head. When Jasper and Peter finally rolled to a stop, Peter had Jasper in a full-nelson, legs wrapped around Jasper's torso from behind. With a final squeeze, Peter released him, and jumped to his feet.

Shirtless, he threw his arms in the air. "The student has surpassed the teacher!"

A second later, he was on his ass in the grass, Jasper having swept his feet out from under him. They both lay on the ground, smiling up at the sky that was quickly shedding night for day.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Never turn your back on your opponent. Idiot."

"Why do I get the feeling I just witness some type of weird-sex thing?" I whispered to Alice, eliciting a giggle.

"Peter!" Everyone turned at Esme's shrill voice, and I saw her standing in the still open doorway. "You're going to fix that window!"

Peter jumped to his feet. "Yes, ma'am." He walked over, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head. When I looked up at him, he was still smiling.

"Having fun?"

Peter nodded. Then, I felt him stiffen, and his head turned in the direction of the driveway. I knew what he was going to say, before he said it.

"He's here."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note: Oh, and I put if off for another chapter. Don't worry; everyone will come face to face in the next chapter. <strong>_

_**But hey, Peter got his finger back. **_

_**Thank you, thank you for all of the reviews! Kind of nuts really, and you guys are awesome. **_

_**This story has been nominated in the Non-Canon Awards, under Best Peter/Bella. It would be fantastic if everyone would head over there and check that whole scene out. **_

_**New chapter up next week! **_


	20. Come Let Go

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 20/?**_

_**Title song by Xavier Rudd**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Twenty**_

_**Come Let Go**_

I watched the mouth of the driveway, my breath caught in my chest. Soon a car came into sight, and I had to giggle a little at the bright yellow cab that pulled into the circle drive. What kind of a vampire uses a damn _cab_? Why didn't he just run from the airport? Then again, this _was _Edward I was thinking about. Who knew why he did half of the crap he did.

As Edward, looking seriously young, stepped out of the back of the cab followed by another man, I could practically feel Edward's eyes home in on me. I stepped out of Peter's arms but gripped his left hand in my right, squeezing tightly. My heart was hammering in my throat, and I was _nervous_. The cab began to pull away, and Edward took a few long strides toward his family and Peter and me, his companion following just a short way behind. The as-yet unnamed man was about three inches taller than Edward, and, to condense it to a word, beautiful. Slim, but clearly muscular, he had dark, nearly mocha skin and black hair that curled around his ears. As they got closer, I saw that his eyes nearly matched the black of his hair and I didn't need Jasper's gift to read the nervousness that came off of him. I could also tell that he was _not _a vampire, nor did he seem entirely human.

Edward reached back, and took the man's hand.

Well, _that _certainly explained a lot. I shifted my attention from the man back to Edward, and found him still staring at me. He was, of course, the one to break the silence.

"What is _she _doing here?"

The Cullen collective seemed to suck in air all at once, and I could practically feel Jasper vibrating next to me. Thankfully, he was reigning in his gift and not infecting all of us with his anger. Edward's eyes widened, and I could see him realize that he'd misspoken.

"That's not exactly how I meant for that to come out," he backpedaled. Edward fell silent as Esme flitted forward and embraced him. She whispered something to him, and then, with a final look toward me, he and his companion followed Esme into the house.

**..**

"Where in the hell did she get it?" I heard Jasper whisper to Peter.

"Thrift store," Peter answered. "Wrestled an old lady for it."

There was a hiss, and the smell of cooking batter filled the state of the art kitchen as I lowered the top on my battered, second-hand waffle iron. My nerves were still in riot after Edward's arrival a few hours earlier, and I needed to be doing _something. _I'd already thoroughly taken advantage of Peter and his assets, an activity that he, of course, actively participated in. That did little to quell the unease inside me as a short few seconds after I realize that everyone in the house, including Edward and his stranger, had heard us.

Upon learning of mine and Peter's impending arrival Esme had stocked the kitchen with enough food to feed twenty of me, and so I hadn't had a problem finding a project in the kitchen. Waffle mix was all over the marble-topped island along with copious amounts of dribbled batter. I'd pulled down a plate and found a fork in the drawer next to the refrigerator, and had butter and syrup standing by for the finished masterpiece.

Jasper, Alice and Peter were all sitting on stools across the island, watching me and occasionally commentating.

I pulled the second finished waffle from the iron, and dribbled more batter pouring the third. I wasn't about to let good waffle batter go to waste. Footsteps echoed off hardwood nearing the kitchen, and I looked up just as Edward and his noisy stranger entered the kitchen. Everyone turned to look at them.

Edward needlessly fidgeted and cleared his throat, once again holding the man's hand. "Alice, Jasper, Peter… Bella. This is Nahuel." He paused, eyes flicking to me, than away. "My mate."

Alice sucked in a breath. "_How did I not see this?_" she nearly shrieked.

Nahuel stepped forward. "Ah, that would be my fault. It's my gift. I am able to block the gifts of all other vampires, and it seems to also encompass the ones that I love." His voice was heavily accented, but I couldn't place it.

"Your gift?" Jasper asked. "But you have a heartbeat. And your smell…" he trailed off. "Ah, now I see."

I leaned across the island, and asked Peter, "What's going on?"

"He's a hybrid," Peter told me, and I nodded as if that explained everything. I had no clue what he was talking about.

"We met in South America, while I was looking for Victoria-"

"Victoria's dead," I blurted, not quite helpfully while pulling the third waffle from the iron and flipping it off.

"-yes, so Alice informed me. Nahuel was living with his Aunt, and we plan to return there in a week or so." I'm sure the last was added for my benefit.

I leaned toward Peter again, and whispered, "What's a hybrid?"

Nahuel answered my question, and I blushed when I realized that my question may be considered rude. "I'm half vampire, half human. I drink blood, and have extraordinary speed and stealth, though not quite as extraordinary as a full vampire. Also can eat human food, which I prefer."

"Half vampire, half human?"

"My father was a vampire, and he impregnated my human mother. She died giving birth to me, I remember it was quite horrific…" he trailed off, slightly glazed look on his face.

An awkward silence hung over the kitchen. I fidgeted in front of the cooling waffle iron, trying to tell myself just to calm the hell down. So the vampire you thought you were in love with, and pretty much turned you into a mindless zombie is standing not four feet away, so what? I let out a small giggle, drawing stares from everyone in the room, Nahuel shaking his head sharply, like a dog flinging off water. I blushed, and squirmed some more.

"So," I said to Nahuel. I held out my stacked-three deep plate. "Waffle?"

**..**

Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper had gone a few hours away to hunt, and Peter and I were ensconced in the Cullen's rather impressive home-library. I'd calmed considerably; nothing apocalyptic had happened since Edward and Nahuel's arrival, and it was looking like nothing catastrophic was about to befall me. That didn't mean I was going to be all chummy with Edward; no I was perfectly content to molder away in one part of the house until both he and Nahuel or Peter and I had concluded our visits.

Of course that was shot to hell when the vampire himself rapped on the open French doors to the library. Peter and I had been sitting in matching red armchairs, reading in silence. Peter was practically sprawled on his chair, reading another of his bosom-heaving romances, and I was sitting sideways on mine, legs dangling over the end as I read a book on the Civil War, picking out things to ask both Peter and Jasper about later. I looked up at the knock and my heart floated down to settle somewhere in the vicinity of my feet when I saw Edward standing there, looking just like he had last time I'd seen him. Of course he looked exactly the same, he would until he died. Edward took a few steps into the room.

"Bella, may I speak with you a moment?"

I hesitated, eyes darting to Peter, who was watching Edward. Finally, I said, "I suppose, but Peter stays."

Edward sent Peter a long look, then finally nodded and stepped fully into the room. He leaned against the nearest bookcase, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tan slacks.

"I wish to… explain the way I behaved the last time we saw each other."

"You don't have to. Alice told me why you did it, and honestly, I'm not even upset anymore."

Peter stood from his chair and wandered a few bookcases away, close enough for me to remain comfortable in Edward's presence. Edward looked at the vacated chair, but remained standing.

"If you're no longer upset, then why are you so uneasy?"

I closed my book and set it in my lap. "Allow me to rephrase. I'm not upset over you leaving, or even the way you did it. Actually, you know what? Leaving me in the forest? Really? You know how I am, you knew I would follow you. I nearly _died_-" I cut myself off, and took a breath. "What I'm upset over, and what is quite frankly making me sick to my stomach when I look at you is the _dazzling. _ I know about that. Peter and Jasper both explained to me how a vampire can put its _prey _under a _thrall_."

He had the decency to look ashamed. I still wanted to kick his balls into his small intestine, if such a thing would have been possible.

"Allow me to explain-"

Peter slammed a book back onto its shelf, making the entire case rock just as I asked, "How can you _possibly _explain something like that?"

"I thought you were my mate. I had _convinced _myself that you were. I had deluded myself into believing that we were meant to be together forever, and so I attempted to shape you into what I thought you should be. And it was wrong."

I swallowed thickly and dropped my gaze to the book in my lap.

"But then I met Nahuel," Edward continued. "And it just… _happened_. It was so easy. I didn't even blink over the fact that he was a man, it was nearly instant."

Peter and I shared a look.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I said. "Except for the whole, you know, same sex thing."

I saw Edward look between Peter and I, before finally settling back on Peter. My vampire stared right back, and then Edward blanched.

"_My car!_"

I didn't have to think too hard about what Peter had showed him, and I couldn't help the wicked grin that spread over my face.

"Oh yeah, about that…"

Edward let out what sounded like a wail and flashed out the door, presumably rushing to the garage to inspect the extent of the damage done to his precious car.

"I really hope he knows a good upholstery guy," Peter said, and then I _did _blush.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Remember! Angst free zone! She didn't forgive Edward, not by a long shot, he's just not worth the effort that goes into hating someone. <strong>

**What did everyone think of Edward's companion? **

**Thank you, thank you, and thank you for all of your feedback, favorites and alerts! I had one particular review last chapter that was not-so-nice; I was going to retort to this review but decided against it. The only think I will say is that the next time you would like to bitch about something, please don't go the anonymous route so that we can actually **_**discuss **_**the issue you're having. Thanks, you're awesome. **

**Hope this chapter didn't disappoint anyone who was looking for a knock-down, drag-out fight of a reunion. Let me know what you thought! **


	21. You Are a Fever

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended. **_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 21/23**_

_**Title song: (Ura Fever) by The Kills**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Twenty One**_

_**You Are a Fever**_

Two days after Edward and Nahuel's arrival found Peter and I sitting in front of the Cullen's ridiculously large TV, watching Seinfeld. Well, Peter was watching Seinfeld, I was reading one of Peter's books; the one featuring Javier and Jocelyn. I was sitting sideways on the pristine white sofa, legs stretched across Peter's lap, and I could admit the appeal of these books. The laugh track on Peter's sitcom was a little too enthusiastic, and I was idly flipping pages when Nahuel walked into the room.

Since our discussion in the library, I'd stayed out of Edward's way and he'd stayed out of mine. Jasper wasn't speaking to his youngest brother, and I'd momentarily felt a twinge of the old self-sacrificing guilt before brushing it away. Jasper's feelings on the matter were his own, I'd not forced him to choose between us. They would work it out in their own time. However, I was just plain uneasy around Nahuel. He'd taken to staring at me intently whenever we were in a room together, and it was unnerving to say the least.

His eyes were fixed on me now as he sat in the white armchair that matched the sofa. I squirmed in my seat a little, attempting to fixate on my book. Peter picked up on my distress and rested a hand on my knee, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. Nahuel tried to speak several times, only to be _shushed _by Peter. It wasn't until the end credits rolled that Peter turned to him.

"What?" Peter asked.

Nahuel cleared his throat. "Over the course of my life, I've always hoped that there was a woman who possessed the strength to successfully carry a vampire's seed, without inflicting upon that progeny the same horror I endured during my birth." His dark brown eyes flicked to Peter, and then back to me. "I just wish to say that I sincerely hope that I am looking at her right now."

Peter's hand tightened slightly on my knee. "Forget it. Bella's womb is not available for rental."

"But it is already occupied. Did you not know?"

My book slipped from my grasp and hit the carpet with a _thump_, and Peter and I spoke at the same time, "Do _what_?"

**..**

"You knew this could happen."

"There could be something _living_ inside of you."

Our bedroom was quiet. Peter and I were sitting side-by-side on the foot of the bed, not looking at each other. To say I was freaked out would be the understatement of the year; I had certainly not known that this was a possibility. I'd assumed that Peter's little swimmers had died out long ago. Suppose that's what I got, and you know what they said about assuming; it makes an ass out of you _and _me. The idea hadn't even occurred to me after meeting Nahuel, physical proof that vampires could indeed procreate, though I'm not quite sure why it hadn't.

Peter, though, he'd known what Nahuel was, he was the one who'd explained hybrids to me. My vampire had _known _that this could have been a possibility, and hadn't mentioned it to me. Maybe he'd assumed (there was that word again) that I'd known, having spent so much time around a large group of vampires in the past. At the moment, though, I wasn't exactly getting coherent answers from him.

"…something living, and feeding, and _sucking_," Peter was saying. The idea seemed to both mildly disgust and intrigue my vampire.

I'd honestly never given children much thought. Too young, I was only nineteen for crying out loud. After I met and fell in love with Peter, the idea that I'd never have little mini-Bella's did briefly cross my mind, but I hadn't been too distraught over it. But now, _now_…

After Nahuel's bizarre announcement, we'd gone immediately to Carlisle. The family of vampires obviously didn't keep home pregnancy-test kits in stock, but Carlisle did keep basic medical equipment on hand. He'd drawn three vials of blood from the crook of my arm and had taken them to the hospital that currently employed him to run tests in order to find out if was, in fact, pregnant.

_Pregnant_. My fingers absently toyed with the band-aid that covered spot on my arm where Carlisle had recently jabbed me with a needle. I must have had a dazed look on my face, because I felt Peter's hand stroking my back.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head; no, I was _not _alright. In the past few hours, I'd been replaying Nahuel's words about his birth, how bloody and horrific it had been. His mother hadn't survived. Now, I knew from phys-ed and the nightmare-inducing video's that Charlie had made me watch that child birth was bloody and horrific no matter what kind of baby was involved. And mother's died in childbirth every day. My gut told me, though, that what Nahuel had been describing was just a little bit beyond the norm.

My vampire continued to stroke my back, and I blindly reached for his other hand. I did _not _want to die. There was a light knock on the door.

"Come in." Peter didn't bother to raise his voice.

All I saw was Esme's kind face peeking through the door, and then a phone was being pressed into my hand.

"It's Carlisle, calling from the hospital," she said, voice at a low whisper. Her slim hand stroked my hair, and I leaned into the comforting touch for a few seconds. The soft click of the door closing was the only noise that marked Esme's departure, and I brought the phone to my ear.

"Carlisle?"

"I rushed your blood through the lab. Performed the tests myself, actually." Carlisle sighed into the phone. "You are pregnant, Bella."

My stomach lurched, and I tightened my hold on Peter. He drew me closer to him; he'd overheard Carlisle's words.

"Your blood is showing that you are nearly two months along." My brow furrowed in confusion. I hadn't even _known _Peter two months ago. "From what I know about vampire-human hybrids, though, is that accelerated gestation is the norm. In reality, you are likely no more than a few weeks along."

I was nodding furiously, knowing damn good and well that Carlisle couldn't see me. Peter slipped the phone from my hand, brought it to his own ear.

"Thank you, Carlisle," he said. "Yes, I think she's alright. Just… surprised." A pause. "Alright, goodbye."

We sat in silence for a few moments.

I finally muttered, "I can't believe you knocked me up."

**..**

I was sitting with Carlisle in the kitchen the day after I'd found out that I was pregnant. After making myself a sandwich, I hadn't been able to choke any of it down, and so instead I sat at the island on a tall stool, hands wrapped white-knuckle tight around a glass of orange juice.

"I wish that you and Peter would remain here for the duration of your pregnancy."

I shook my head. "Peter and I talked about it. We're going to finish our trip, and then go back to Forks."

"That is extremely ill advised, Bella. From what little we know about pregnancies of this type… I would like to monitor you closely."

"I want to be near my Dad. I'm going to tell him everything."

"I wish you would not do that-"

"The other solution is what? Disappear from his life? Fake my death? I won't do that to him. I _can't_."

"Very well. You're an adult, the decision is yours."

_You bet your sparkly ass it is, _I thought, taking a long sip of my juice. Carlisle patted the back of my hand, and left the kitchen. I blew my hair out of my face, mind still whirling. I was _pregnant._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: JFC, kids. Use condoms. Even <strong>_**I **_**did see this shit coming. This was not the direction that I saw this story going, but it seems that I've gone and accidentally knocked my story up. Oh well, I guess I just gotta roll widdit, baby. Going to try and keep these chapters coming at a quicker pace now. I'm going to **_**try. **_

**You-all are awesome with your feedback and support, keep it up! **


	22. Shake It Out

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight, no copyright infringement intended. **_

_**Pairing: Peter/Bella**_

_**Chapter: 22/23**_

_**Title song by Florence + the Machine**_

_**(Please read the Author's Note at the bottom.)**_

_**A Case of You**_

_**Twenty Two**_

_**Shake It Out**_

**..**_**  
><strong>_

In the week that had passed since we'd found out that I was pregnant my belly had become decidedly rounded, something that was endlessly fascinating to Peter. The fact that I could already feel tiny kicks and movements from the little… guy? Girl? Person, from the little person, was making me second guess my hasty decision to settle on the other side of the country from the only doctor who may be able to help us. I knew that I wanted to finish the trip; that was non-negotiable. I was going to see the other side of the country, stand and look out at the Atlantic Ocean, if just for the simple satisfaction of saying that I did it, and for no good goddamned reason, just the fact that I _wanted to_.

I'd spent my life being responsible for other people, taking care of my Mom while we lived in Phoenix, my Dad after I moved to Forks. Now, I had another responsibility; a child. This was one I knew that I wouldn't have to shoulder on my own, though. Peter had already bonded with our child; he would talk to it, hands pressed to the tender, beginning to stretch skin of my abdomen. In fact, in all of the time that I'd known Peter, I hadn't heard him talk so much. My vampire spent an entire day reading every pregnancy and baby book he could get his hands on, flipping through them with enviable speed. Though surely he knew the ins and outs and mechanics of childbirth, the process had thoroughly disturbed him; the fact that something about the size of a watermelon was going to come out of me put such a horrified look on his face that I'd had to laugh.

From the frenzied research that had Carlisle spending endless hours in his home office either hunched over a book or speaking in low, hurried tones into the phone, we knew that it was likely I wouldn't carry until natural labor. When I'd found out that in vampire-human hybrid deliveries, the baby normally chewed its way out of the mother, I'd thought briefly of aborting the pregnancy. I couldn't lie about that fact, it _did _cross my mind. I most certainly did not want to die in bloody agony while the fruit of my loins gnawed its way out of said loins. Carlisle assured me that he was doing everything that he could to find an alternative course.

After the trip was over, Peter and I had a big decision to make; return to Washington, or stay in New York? I wanted to be with Charlie, and with the Pack. I knew the Pack's stance on all things undead, though, and I had a good idea of how they'd react to me setting up house with another vampire. A vampire that had gotten me pregnant. With a child they would no doubt see as some type of demon spawn, no matter if half its genes came from me. Also, my want to tell Charlie everything, about the vampires and about hybrids would no doubt put him in such danger that I hadn't even known that I was in until Carlisle had explained it to me. I had known, obviously, that telling human's about vampires was a Very Bad Thing. It was Rule Numero Uno. But, what I _hadn't _known was the type of power that the vampires that made up the Volturi wielded. That they would easily swoop in and kill us all, without batting an eye.

That certainly threw a wrench in things.

If we stayed in New York, we would be protected. We would have Carlisle to guide us to the best of his ability through my pregnancy and after. But we would also, no doubt, be molded into the Cullen Fold. I knew that Peter would be miserable; they would want to change him, go vegetarian, among other things, and I knew that he would do it because he loved me. But _I _loved _him _as well, and I couldn't, wouldn't, force him to change who he was if there was another alternative.

It was our last day in New York. The car was packed and ready to go, and we were set to leave that afternoon, after lunch. I was lying on my back in the comfortable bed that Peter and I had shared during our visit, arms folded behind my head, and Peter was lying with his head resting on my slightly burgeoning belly, body between my legs.

"… and you're actually pregnant for ten months, instead of nine. Did you know that most women poop while delivering their babies?" He looked up at me, over the swell of my breasts. "I won't judge you if you poop while having our baby."

I ran my fingers through his longish, dark hair. "I doubt I'll deliver normally. They'll probably have to do a caesarian."

"I'll see what you look like on the inside. You know, I think that after you've seen what the inside of another person's belly looks like, your relationship with that person goes to a whole other level." He looked like he was slightly in awe.

"Peter, I love you, but you're starting to creep me out a little."

He didn't seem to hear me. "I wonder if you'll develop breast milk."

"Probably. Hybrids need normal nutrition as well as blood." Peter opened his mouth to speak. "No, you can't try it," I cut him off before he could ask the question. He looked disappointed for a moment, but then the baby kicked, and his eyes went round again. Peter pressed a small kiss to the swell of my stomach.

"Do you think we'll be like Ricky, Lucy and Little Ricky?" he asked me, squinting at my stomach as if he could see through to the child developing inside. I smiled a little- Peter and his sitcoms. I had to admit, though, _I Love Lucy _had it's merits.

"I don't know. I could probably pull of Lucy, but I don't think you could nail Ricky."

"Why not?"

"For one, you're neither a singer, nor a dancer. And you're not Cuban."

"No, but I _am _fluent in Spanish. And I can salsa dance."

I lifted my head to look down at him. "You can?"

"Mmhmm."

"You'll have to show me sometime." The thought of Peter salsa dancing, _dancing _at all, had me fighting back hysterics.

"We'll see."

**..**

We'd slipped away after saying goodbye to Alice and Jasper, Carlisle and Esme, and Emmett, and were now back in the car. Which we'd slipped right out from under Edward's nose. Peter and I had decided that we'd ditch it when we got to the East Coast. Of course we'd call someone, either Emmett or Jasper, and tell them where we'd left it; it _was _a beautiful car.

The windows were down, Peter was driving, and we had the radio up. I was curled in the passenger's seat, rubbing my stomach through my white ribbed tank top. I could have sworn that I felt the baby growing by the hour, something which Carlisle assured me was entirely impossible. Even with the acceleration of a hybrid pregnancy, something like that couldn't happen.

We were on the last leg of the trip; the coast was only a few hours away. I wasn't sure what I'd do when we got there, but the anticipation was thick.

Peter stretched his arm across the back of the seat, fingers twining themselves in my long hair, cold tips brushing the back of my neck.

**..**

It was beautiful. The word, in my mind, was entirely too small, but it was the only one I could come up with at that moment. I stood in a grassy area just before an outcropping of rocks, looking out at the Atlantic. The water was brilliant blue, waves rolling and crashing white. A breeze fanned over my face, smelling of salt and something else I couldn't quite place.

Peter stood just behind me; I could feel him, strong and sure at my back. For a few moments, I just stood there, breathing deeply, the ocean air filling my lungs.

"What now?" Peter asked me.

The baby kicked, and I just reached for my vampire's hand.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<br>**

**Alright. The reaction to chapter twenty-one, wowza. Some of you loved it; some of you absolutely hated it. But I would like to thank those that **_**did **_**hate it for not being unnecessarily nasty. Many of you were worried over hurting my feelings; you didn't. Hybrid pregnancy stories are not everyone's cuppa tea, quite frankly, they're not mine either. I **_**hated **_**Breaking Dawn. However, I felt that if I didn't have Bella fall pregnant in this story, it would leave an enormous gaping plot hole. I introduced a hybrid, without thinking about the fact that Peter and Bella had been having quite a lot of unprotected sex. So, I did the logical thing, and knocked her up. Although how it could ever be the **_**logical **_**choice when something **_**dead **_**impregnates something that is **_**living **_**baffles me. *shrugs* I don't know.**

**New chapter up in the next few days. **


	23. New Chapters Coming!

Friends! Romans! Countrymen!

Readers!

Lend me your ears.

Or eyes.

Or whatever.

I know it's horrible of me to tease you with an update alert after such a horribly long time, only to have it turn out to be this derpy author's note. I also know that I've been all over the place with this story- saying there will be another chapter, then marking it as complete, then before that getting old Bella knocked up with Peter's demon seed. A few of you said that the tone of this story had changed since the beginning, and I suppose that it did. I lost any type of emotional connection with this it, and I'm not one of those author's that can just churn out chapters like a machine churns out figures. I have to be _connected _and the turn the story took threw me off.

However! I've recently re-read the entire thing, thought about it quite a bit, and I'm ready to start up with it again. I've got a few thousand words of the epilogue written, however for some reason I wrote it in third person and when I re-read _that _I decided that I hated everything about it.

So, I'm starting fresh and writing what may be an epilogue, or what may be a few more chapters and _then _an epilogue. Who knows.

Also, I'm going to be doing several outtakes, some scenes in Peter's POV, some before-story things, with Jasper, Alice and Bella. Some with Peter pre-story. Those will all be posted here once the story is finished.

So, yeah, that's what's going on here, and once again, apologies for being so damn flaky when it comes to this story and you-all who have been so loyal throughout this story.

See you all soon, we're talking two weeks max soon, and much love,

Lacy aka Mrs. Monster

3/7/13


	24. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing related to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.

_**Author's Note:**_ So this took longer than I anticipated, and it didn't turn out to be _what _I anticipated, but I hope that you still like what I've done. Or not. But I believe it's given us some closure. I still intend to do some outtakes for our favorite couple, but those may be a bit down the road. (Grammar on this was a bit crap. Went back and freshened it up a little bit.)

_**A Case of You **_

_**Chapter 23**_

_**Epilogue**_

I think that it's damn safe to say that when I started my road trip after I graduated high school, I never imagined anything turning out this way.

Meet a vampire? Sure. Must be Tuesday.

Boning said vampire? Again, why not?

Falling in love with the human-hunting vampire… slightly off course.

However, getting knocked up by that nomadic vampire? Way out of left freaking field.

In Syracuse, New York, I'd been informed that I was pregnant with a human-vampire hybrid that would most likely kill me as it was born by chewing its way out of me. Not an ideal situation.

In the end, instead of finishing the road trip and moving back to Charlie as I'd planned, we re-contacted the Cullen family. Peter and I _did _move back to the Syracuse area for the duration of my pregnancy; the family gave us a guest bedroom in the New York house and Peter would leave the _state _to hunt.

When I was chronologically three months pregnant, but biologically eight, I underwent what Carlisle called a cesarean section surgery, but what I call him cutting me open and Peter chewing through my uterus so our child wouldn't kill me surgery. And it hurt. A lot.

But I hadn't been quite ready to die yet. Or become a vampire. I knew that one day, Peter would change me, but just… not yet.

So, half a year after the start of my trip, I was a mother. A baby girl that we named Charlotte Jasper Sellers, or Charlie for short, was healthy when she came into the world with a thick head of dark hair, blue eyes that stayed her father's blue and my nose.

During my pregnancy, I'd been wholly unprepared for the reality of a _baby_. She'd been so entirely unexpected, as had Peter, that the adjustment period was a rough one for all of us. But we all made it out alive (or _not _but that's besides the point).

The Cullens loved having little Charlie around. Carlisle and Esme doted on her like grandparents. At times it was difficult prying her away from Rosalie who had always wanted children of her own. I had to grit my teeth and be sympathetic (or so Peter says) instead of saying, back_ off_ she's mine. And Alice of course wanted fill several nurseries with clothing, toys and anything else she thought Charlie could ever _possibly _need.

They were all disappointed when Charlie was about a month old, and the six of a one year old, Peter and I decided that we were going to head out on our own again. My vampire was born to be a nomad. Even when he was a human, what he could remember, he'd never been able to stay in one place for long, and he was getting antsy staying in New York. And Charlie and I went with Peter. No matter what.

Edward had long ago reclaimed his Mustang and there wasn't near enough room in the old muscle car for a child and that went along with one anyway, so Peter and I shopped and finally settled upon an old VW camper bus. It was pumpkin orange with an avocado green interior, and we thought that it was perfect for our family.

I wanted so badly to see my dad. But there was just so much that I couldn't explain. My daughter. My vampire. My new scar that smiled across my belly. And he was beginning to ask questions. I had tried to keep them satisfied for as long as I could with phone calls, but it was becoming clear that I had to come up with a more permanent solution.

Jasper staged the accident, I didn't ask too many questions, and he and Alice returned to Forks for the small funeral that was held. They said that it was lovely and my mother was inconsolable while my father was his usual stoic self. Hurting him was what hurt the most. Renée was prone to theatrics, and while I had no doubts that she'd loved me, she wouldn't hesitate to tell anyone that she met about the daughter she'd been so devoted to, that she'd lost so tragically. While Charlie would silently plod on, protecting his little town and living in his little house.

I began sending him photos. I couldn't help it.

Peter knew and while he didn't approve, he didn't stop me. Since three days after she'd been born I'd been taking pictures of little Charlie wrapped in Peter's faded Lynrd Skynrd tee shirt, and later when she was bigger, with her wearing it like a dress, the sleeves trailing way down passed her chubby little hands. The first, with her far-too intelligent eyes looking directly at the camera, swaddled in the faded cotton with one tiny foot peeking out, I wrote, "Charlotte 'Charlie' Jasper, three days", and sent it in a plain white envelope, with no return address.

Just like Nahuel, Charlie ate human food, but also craved blood. However, my little girl must take after her father, because she much preferred blood. Most mothers complain about getting their children to eat their vegetables, well, they didn't have to compete with type a-positive.

* * *

><p>We were at Joe's diner, where Peter and I had first met. Where I'd stopped him from eating a small child, and I'd flashed my boobs in his face. Charlie was around eight months old, but physically she appeared to be five years. Little miss smarty pants, however, thought she was five going on fifteen.<p>

"I'm not going to eat them," she said, her words perfectly enunciated. The only thing left on her plate was a pile of peas and carrots, as she'd already devoured country fried steak and mashed potatoes.

I'd already finished my meal, the chili I'd never gotten to eat, and was working my way through a cup of coffee.

"Yes, you are."

"No I'm not. Dad doesn't have to eat vegetables."

Peter stopped fiddling with the glass of water in front of him and looked up quickly. I knew his eyes were wide behind his sunglasses.

"That's different. Now eat your peas, Charlie."

"Why is it different? Because Dad's dead?"

The couple in the booth next to us looked over sharply.

"She's kidding," I mumbled, then leaned across the table toward Charlie. "Eat the peas and carrots and I'll let you go out with your dad tonight."

At the very different looks on their faces, I said, "Animals _only_, Charlie Jasper."

She slumped down. "Yes, mom." With a grimace she scooped vegetables onto her spoon and swallowed them quickly.

Peter leaned into me. "Nicely done."

"Thank you very much."

"You give the greens, I give the blood."

"Parenting win."

We low-fived under the table, before twining our fingers together.

* * *

><p>We traveled all over America and even into Canada and Mexico. I worried about Charlie missing out on interaction with other children, but with her accelerated physical and mental growth, she would have never been able to attend mainstream school anyway. Peter and I educated her ourselves. She learned to read and write there at the tiny table in the VW. Mathematics, language arts and history. We showed her where all the major American battles took place. Peter described the ones he'd taken part in; he hadn't fought in what had been classified as 'decisive' battles, but he'd been in several that were decisive enough for him.<p>

I continued to send my dad pictures of Charlie. After the first there was one of her looking like a chubby ten-month old when she was only a few weeks old. A few of her through her toddler phase, then on. All in the same faded Skynrd tee. Later, when she's physically seven, chronologically three, with a small leather belt around her waist and a big grin on her face, posing in front of the bus, throwing up a peace sign.

* * *

><p>It was night and we were driving through Ontario. Charlie was asleep in the back, wrapped in a light green chenille blanket that Alice had sent her, snoring lightly.<p>

"I think we should buy a house. Settle down permanently."

Peter's words caught me completely off guard. We'd been on the road together for nearly five years. I loved him more every day, and we were happy with our little traveling family. Or I thought we were.

"Where is this coming from? I thought we'd worked all of this out, back in New York."

"Yeah, but… Charlie's getting older… bigger… whatever, and she needs roots."

"Roots?"

I looked over at him just as a passing sodium arc that lined the highway light up his face for a moment.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I mean and you always wanted to go to college before. You still could."

"There will be plenty of time for that later, Peter. And as for Charlie, I'd say she's doing just fine."

He's quiet for a moment. "You think so?"

"In one week the kid got an on-site history lesson at Little-Bighorn and took down an elk with her bare hands. We're doing a damn awesome job. As for me? I can go to college later, after Charlie's grown, after you change me. We're going to have forever, Peter, to do all that stuff. And I'm happy, we both are. Are you?"

His hand slipped over to my leg. "Never been happier in all my nearly two hundred years."

* * *

><p>When Charlie turned eight, but looked fully grown, and I was nearing thirty, I decided that I was going to send one last picture to my father. Throughout the years I'd sporadically sent them, all with Charlie's name and seemingly impossible age on the back. For this last one I gave my daughter her father's old Skynrd shirt and her grandfather's old button up flannel that I'd stolen years ago.<p>

She sat inside the open side door of the VW bus, the table and back bed visible. Charlie was taller than me, with long dark hair that curled down to her elbows and bright blue eyes. Her skin was pale like her father's, but her cheeks were flushed with humanity and she had my freckles. Charlie's jeans were ripped at the knees and the old tee shirt was stretched tight over the chest, a fact that Peter was eternally disgruntled over. The flannel was unbuttoned and pushed up at the elbows, which were resting on her knees as she was leaning forward.

Peter, who had been standing off camera, had said something to make her laugh, and I'd caught the picture just as her head tilted back and her teeth flashed.

When I printed the picture and turned it over, I wrote, "Charlotte 'Charlie' Jasper, eight years old."

And just underneath it: _"I regret nothing." _

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So…verdict? Do you like what I did? Did you hate it? Leave me a final review and let me know! And watch out for a future outtakes!

And thanks everyone for being so awesome and patient with this story, love you all.


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